


Of Gods and...Men?

by Xan Lazy Eldritch Writer (xanothos)



Category: Highschool DxD (Anime)
Genre: Ambiguous Gender, Dual Author, Dual SI, Gen, Memes, Reincarnation, shitposting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-25
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-04-27 23:32:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 82,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14436552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xanothos/pseuds/Xan%20Lazy%20Eldritch%20Writer
Summary: This is a story all about how our lives got turned flipped upside down.We’d like to take a minute, there’s time before you go, so we’ll tell you how we became the Shitlords of Kuoh.On a whole other world, born and raised, never did we think here is where we’d spend the rest of our days.Nothing to do but become our best(As an aside: one of us guys now has breasts)We’ll hone our minds and our bodies, but we aren’t ashamed to say:The most potent weapon in our arsenal is “You’re mom gay.”





	1. Chapter Zero: Kore wa Shonen, desu ka?

 

**Chapter Zero: Kore wa Shonen, desu ka?**

**Issei**

I was walking home alone after school, hands in my pockets and happily reminiscing on the day's memories of Gremory-senpai, Himejima-senpai and Koneko-chan as I wondered if I would manage to complete my new eroge that night, when I stepped onto the street where my house was and stopped cold at the feeling I suddenly received.   
  
It was a shiver, a shiver through my whole body that set my nerves on edge. A warning of danger? I’d felt something like this sometimes when I got caught peeking at girls, but this was on a whole other level. Was this something from my Devil senses?   
  
One way or another, the feeling was coming from my house. My house, where my mother was!   
  
Imagining my mother in danger, I immediately ran to my front door and pulled it open, stepping inside and untidily tossing my shoes aside as I walked quickly toward the kitchen.

What had happened? Had my status as a Devil been revealed? If so, who to? Who  _by?_ Fallen Angels? The Church? God? Any of those could be dangerous - if they were like Freed or... _her_ , then they would definitely kill anyone around me just for knowing me! My mother, who gave birth to me and raised me…

I walked faster.

I remembered the corpses that sick bastard Selzen left in his wake. That blood, all those cuts and wounds...that wouldn’t happen to my mother! I wouldn’t  _let_  it happen!

My mother wasn’t in the kitchen, and my heart stopped for a moment. Then I heard laughter coming from the living room and quickly spun on my heel, marching towards the sound.

My mother was sitting, smiling, apparently unharmed. I breathed a sigh of relief even as I noticed the other three people in the room with her; one of them was sitting beside her and laughing at something in the book my mother was holding (oh no, not the album again), while the other two were sitting on the couch opposite.

Two of them, including the one beside my mother, were girls with foreign features while the third was a guy who reminded me a lot of Kiba but even girlier. Dammit, if strangers were going to turn up in my house couldn’t they  _all_  be cute girls? Two cute foreigners didn’t make up for having a damn handsome in my house!

My mother was talking about some picture she was pointing out when I walked in, not noticing me until I spoke up. “M...mum?”

She blinked, looking up. “Oh, Ise. Welcome back.” She paused. “What happened? You look pale.”

I didn’t answer for a moment, just standing in the doorway and meeting the three sets of eyes coming from the strangers. They were all foreign, apparently; each looked around my age with a rosario hanging around their neck, but in looks they were completely different. The girl in the chair beside my mother’s had chestnut hair in twin-tails while the one on the couch had blue hair with a green mesh.  _Her_  eyes were hard to meet; they made the uneasiness in my stomach even worse.

In contrast, the guy’s eyes were smiling slightly, like he was part of a joke no-one else was getting. They were a really bright green, brighter than even the jewel on Boosted Gear, and between them and the short, bright blond hair he sported I just wanted to beat him up. Dammit, a guy like that travelling with two cute foreigners? There was no way there wasn’t at least a love-triangle going on there! A damn handsome achieving my dream before I did...where was the fairness in this world?!

Still, I didn’t say anything, even though I wanted to. The white robes all three were wearing, combined with the rosarios and the feeling they each had to them...these weren’t normal people. Were they related to the church? Exorcists, maybe? Shit, I couldn’t fight them alone - especially not in my house with my mother sitting right there!

My panic was cut off when the brown-haired one spoke up. “Hello, Hyoudou Issei-kun.”

Huh, she was smiling at me; it made her look even cuter than before. The damn handsome had a small smile in place too, though it looked more like he was laughing at me than happy to see me - the bastard. The girl with blue hair…she was glaring at me. She was beautiful, but her scary eyes made it really hard to appreciate that…

And so did the wrapped bundle leaning against the arm of the couch beside her.

The feeling of foreboding danger...it was definitely coming from that. A weapon? It was probably a weapon - and with the unpleasant feeling on my skin coming from it, it was probably meant to destroy Devils.

I still made an effort though, offering the girl a fake smile. “Nice to meet you.”

Oddly, the look in the girl’s eyes changed and she looked puzzled. “Huh? Don’t you remember me?”

…?

The girl pointed at herself, which didn’t change anything. I didn’t recognise her at all; I was sure I would have done if I’d known her, but she didn’t ring a bell.

My mother flipped through the album and pulled out a picture, handing it to me as I just looked confused. Surprisingly, it was the same picture that had set Kiba off before; the one that had a man holding a Holy Sword in it. Except my mother was pointing at the boy who I was friends with as a child, rather than anything else. “This is her - Shidou Irina-chan. She was quite the tomboy back then, but she’s grown into such a proper young lady that even I didn’t recognise her at first.”

...I took a moment to pull my thoughts back together as I looked back and forth between the picture and the girl sitting beside my mother. Excuse me? This girl was the boy who lived in the neighbourhood years ago and used to play with me? I’d mistaken her for a boy back then?!

“Long time no see, Ise-kun.” Irina-san smiled. “So you mistook me for a boy? I suppose it can’t be helped - it took me a while to start acting like a girl.” For some reason, she shot a very pointed look at the damn handsome on the couch. In return he rolled his eyes and looked away, which made Irina-san huff before she turned back to me. “But then, I suppose both of us have changed a lot since we last saw one another.”

I froze again as she met my eyes. “I guess it’s true that you can never guess what a reunion holds in store."

She knew. She  _definitely_ knew I was a Devil now.

...dammit, there went the 'childhood friend' flags. How was I supposed to become a Harem King if things like this kept happening?!

“Oh, I don’t know, Irina,” the damn handsome suddenly spoke up. No honorific? Didn’t he know how to speak Japanese properly?! Or was he just a douchebag using his good looks to entice the girls he worked with?!

Damn handsome! Stop cheating and let the rest of us have a chance!

“The more things change, the more they stay the same,” he continued. “Maybe you two should catch up? We have some extra time still and it’s probably best to try and get stuff like this out of the way before we get to work.”

This guy...was he trying to get me alone with Irina-san so she could kill me? It...didn’t actually seem like it - the girl with scary eyes might be glaring at me but the damn handsome wasn’t acting that way at all, and Irina-san genuinely smiled at me. They weren’t trying to be alone with my mother either, since they had already been here a while before I arrived home. So what was he doing?

Irina-san perked up at the suggestion, nodding firmly. “Right! I must have faith that Ise-kun will still be the same as always!” She got up from where she was sitting beside my mother, walking towards me and reaching out to grab my hand as she passed. “C’mon, Ise-kun! I saw the old park was still there when we were coming here, so let’s go!”

I tried to protest as she dragged me towards the door, but I was distracted by both my mother and the damn handsome shooting me thumbs-up. The girl with blue hair had her arms folded and a huffy look on her face as she glared half-heartedly at the damn handsome, but she didn’t try to stop Irina-san as she dragged me along.

As we passed the doorframe, I grabbed hold of the edge and managed to stop myself for a few seconds. “Oi, wait!” I called, drawing the...maybe-not-so-bad handsome’s attention. “What’s your name?” He might be a damn cheater in the game of life, whose natural privilege was an insult to hard-working dreamers like me, but the code of brothers demanded some respect for being a good wingman.

The blond smiled a bit wider, inclining his head towards me. “It’s Asia; Asia Ar…” He paused. “Ah, right. It’d be Argento Asia, here.”

I nodded to him as my grip on the doorframe peeled away and I was once more marched towards the door. Argento Asia-san. He might have been a damn handsome, but perhaps I wouldn’t hate him too much.

Maybe.

**-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-**

**Irina**

It was strange, how normal it felt to be holding Ise-kun’s hand.

As I pulled him along behind me, noting happily that he had stopped struggling without me having to bludgeon him, I could feel the warmth of his grip. If I really concentrated I could feel the rise and fall of veins and arteries beneath my fingers, and there was a warm fuzzy feeling in my chest as I held on.

Despite the fact that the Ise-kun of my childhood had grown up to become a Devil...holding his hand was still everything that I had thought it would be.

I resolved myself once more, clenching my free hand in front of me. This latest test of faith, I would conquer as I had all the others. I was a proud Exorcist of the Protestant Church, and I wouldn’t let something as simple as this stop me!

I would definitely win Ise-kun back over to the side of God...but first, I should deal with our watcher.

I reluctantly let go of his hand as we reached the park where we used to play as children, taking a few more steps forward once I did before turning to face him. Or, more accurately, to face his shadow, which stood out as being far too cohesive for this sunny time of day. “It’s rude to spy when a girl drags a boy off by the hand, you know?”

Ise-kun seemed surprised, spluttering a bit at some thought he had, but I was paying him less attention than I was his shadow.

As Ise-kun looked on in growing shock, his shadow darkened even further, distorting before it rose out of the ground and became three-dimensional. Then the shadows peeled away to leave behind a slender blonde wearing black slacks, a white button-down shirt and a black jacket that hung to mid-thigh rose, who draped an arm over Ise-kun’s shoulders with a casual motion. They tilted their sunglasses down to regard me with ruby-red eyes. “What? Can’t a concerned sempai keep an eye on their kohai, little miss Exorcist?”

I regarded the blonde steadily, though part of me wanted to smack them with Mimic for getting so close to Ise-kun when I hadn’t been able to even see him for so long. Instead, though, I settled for examining them like I would any opponent.

They called Ise-kun ‘kohai’, but looked like they might actually be younger than him - so, they were Ise-kun’s senior in  _something_. Hiding in someone’s shadow like that...there were a few races with powers that could do that, but the bright-red eyes and pointed ears made me think vampire. Except the sun was still out and high, and any vampire powerful enough to ignore it would have been much more noticeable than the blonde was.

The most obvious thing though, I only noticed when I bemoaned another girl being so close to Ise-kun. This person...was a mirror image of Asia.

Maybe Asia would find them interesting?

I put the thought to the back of my mind as I spoke again. “You seem a little young to be Ise-kun’s sempai, blondie-san.” I deliberately kept my voice cheery and upbeat; Asia called it ‘ditzy’, but to me it was just my normal voice. I had to admit though, it made irritating people much easier. Which was good; irritated people talked a lot more, in my experience.

However, the new arrival seemed unfazed by my voice. “True, true. However, I  _have_  been Rias Gremory’s Bishop for...what, seven years now? My, it  _has_  been that long, hasn’t it?” The  _Devil_  let their arm drop from Ise-kun’s shoulder as they sauntered around to stand at an angle to us both. “Now, as miffed as my King is at the perv-” They jerked a thumb at Ise-kun, who yelped in protest. “She would have my hide if I let him walk around with an Exorcist, childhood friends or not.”

I kept smiling even as my link to Mimic curled around my mind like the tail of a sleeping dragon. “Blondie-san, if you’re going to follow Ise-kun everywhere and dictate who he can and can’t speak with...I might start making assumptions about the kind of relationship you two have, you know?”

The youth let out a snort. “Now, now. Nobody said he  _couldn’t_ talk to you. I’m just the chaperone. No offense to Hyoudou-kun, but I’m not sure he’s prepared for all that firepower you’re packing.” They gave me a pointed look over the top of their shades.

My smile faltered a bit and my eyes narrowed. Saying that like I might try to hurt Ise-kun...they was definitely using my own tactic against me, weren’t they? And they’d rolled with my innuendo too, where most teenagers would have gone red in the face and dumb in the head. Ise-kun’s face had certainly turned a fairly bright shade, though the way his eyes darted between me and the blonde told me that he was still thinking.

What a troublesome person Gremory had following my friend…

“Well, if you’re just  _watching_ Ise-kun then you could do that fine from over there, couldn’t you?” I asked, gesturing towards a small copse of trees at the edge of the playground with a flick of my head. They had been a lot smaller when I was last here…

The blonde inclined their head, like a fencer acknowledging a touch, and replied, “Very well. I, Gasper, will allow you your privacy. If you need anything, simply ask, and I, Gasper, will do what I can to help. Either of you.” With those words, the now introduced Gasper shifted into a cloudy, mist-like state and floated over to one of the trees, then reformed to stand ominously on one of the branches.

Could it be that this person was a Chunnibyō like Asia as well?

Oh, well. There would be time for that later; for the moment, I was mostly alone with Ise-kun after seven long years, and we had a lot to talk about. How he’d ended up as a Devil, for one thing...and maybe just what his relationship was with that Rias Gremory. I remembered him saying something about amassing a massive harem of girls back when we were kids, but surely he’d have forgotten about that by now?

Right?

**-x-x-x-**

As I talked with my childhood friend and I grew more and more incredulous, I could definitely feel that Gasper’s eyes on me.

They were laughing.

I was right with my first thought; this troublesome person was  _exactly_  like Asia.

**-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-**

**AN: Well, Teninshigen and I decided to do a thing, and what a thing it is. This is going to be intensely fun to write, and you, readers, should expect seriousness and shitposting in equal measure. It should also be mentioned that Magery advised us on our work, (and actually came up with the title, which happens to be _suspiciously_  similar to the title of one of his own works... >_>...I jest, the title is perfect) **

**Anyways, we hope you enjoy!**

**Edit (12/13/18): Beginning altered for continuity's sake.**


	2. Chapter One: The Times They Are a-Changin’

 

**Chapter One: The Times They Are a-Changin’**

**Asia**

Meeting Issei Hyoudou in person hadn’t gone quite the way I had expected it to.

Maybe it had something to do with the way we’d all turned up in his house, but there hadn’t been any real signs of his lechery before Irina dragged him away. He  _did_  glare at me pretty hard, though, which was a bit confusing…

Oh, no, wait - he had a thing about hating good-looking guys, didn’t he? I’d almost forgotten that.

Huh. I could taste the irony.

I could also taste the tea that Mrs Hyoudou (“Please, call me Sachiko.”) had made for Xenovia and I as we waited for Irina to return with Issei. Once upon a time, I’d had no taste for hot drinks at all. These days, though, I didn’t have to fear burning my tongue or mouth, so I had developed a certain fondness for them.

Mrs Hyoudou’s tea in particular was a nice change from what I usually drank at home. She was pleasant company, too, polite and quite eager to pull out a photo album detailing many of Issei’s youthful misadventures. It seemed to me like she was eager to impress - I supposed she didn’t get many chances to have people our age around. Issei’s social circle, while it would be expansive in the future, was currently very limited.

In fact, discounting the two sideshow perverts, I didn’t think he had a single friend outside the ORC. And most of them were more like acquaintances, for the moment.

It was kind of sad, really…

Until I remembered I was pitying Issei Hyoudou of all people and decided that he’d really brought it on himself.

I didn’t voice any of that to Mrs Hyoudou though, instead paying attention as she happily chatted her way through the album. Every picture had a story, and I caught even Xenovia hiding a smile from time to time as they were recounted.

...Honestly, even after seventeen years, this kind of situation made me miss my own family.

“...like to stay for dinner?” Mrs Hyoudou (“Asia-kun, please, I must insist you call me Sachiko.”) was asking as I tuned back in, looking hopeful. “Gorou will be home in a couple of hours, and it’s so rare that we get to see any of Issei’s friends…”

I could feel Xenovia stiffen beside me, biting down her instinctive reaction, and I breathed a silent sigh of relief. Hiding that expression, I smiled at Mrs...at Sachiko-san (I had to start holding onto a Japanese mindset if I was going to be spending as much time in Japan as I expected I would be), shaking my head. “Regretfully, Sachiko-san, we’re not quite done for the day yet. Once Irina returns with Issei-san we’ll have to take our leave.”

Sachiko-san seemed to deflate a bit, but still smiled. “Ah, I know how it is. Being young is always such a rush.”

I inclined my head, and when I looked up again Sachiko-san was staring towards the front door. “...My Ise...has always had a habit of rushing into things without thinking,” she said softly, before turning back to Xenovia and I. Unconsciously, I straightened in my seat, Xenovia doing the same beside me. “Will you keep an eye on him, please? He...a lot seems to have changed lately, though I’m not sure what, and I…”

I placed my cup down softly on the table in front of the couch, leaning forward a bit and taking hold of Sachiko-san’s hands where they were clasped in front of her. I met her eyes, which was all the better for not letting her see the faint green glow around where I was touching her, and smiled as I replied, “Of course we’ll look after him. He’s Irina’s childhood friend, after all, and a friend of hers is a friend of mine.”

_Late forties, no major congenital conditions or illnesses. A few of the minor bruises and scratches that come from moving around without paying real attention to your surroundings were easily fixed; a few nicks and scars on the hands and fingers from cooking mishaps were also easy. The symptoms of age and child-rearing, some premature grey hairs and wrinkles as well as the beginning of failure in the joints and stiffness in the muscles, were slightly more difficult but still faded. The slight unhealthiness of a fairly sedentary lifestyle was counteracted by well-made traditional Japanese cooking, but I still eradicated what small issues there were._

I let go of her hands, my arms folding beneath my robe quickly enough that she wouldn’t see the rings on my fingers before they faded from existence in the shadow of my clothing. “Thank you, Asia-kun.” She smiled, the slight trembling her hands had exhibited no longer appearing. “That means a lot.”

Collecting herself, she turned to look at Xenovia, still smiling. “You know, Xenovia-chan, you’ve been really quiet.”

The corner of my lip turned upwards as I looked sideways at my friend, who had stiffened. “Yes, Xenovia, you’ve barely said a word since we arrived.” I shook my head exaggeratedly slowly. “You really have to get used to interacting with people, you know? It’s no good to be shy in our line of work.”

The blunette turned an armour-piercing glare on me, which I weathered with a smile. That expression had lost its bite years ago and she knew it. “I didn’t see a need for me to speak,” she said simply. “After all, as usual you say more than enough for everyone.”

I gasped, pressing a hand to my robed chest dramatically. “Xenovia! And all this time I thought you just loved the sound of my voice!”

Xenovia snorted. “Not half as much as you do, Asia.”

I threw myself into a cross-armed position with a huff, hunching and pouting to play up the sulk, and Xenovia rolled her eyes at me even as Sachiko-san chuckled to herself. “Oh, you two remind me so much of how Gorou and I used to be…”

Xenovia and I glanced at one another, and a familiar but silent conversation played out. When she shrugged, as good as saying ‘Do what you want.’, I turned to Sachiko-san. “Gorou-san would be your husband, right?”

Sachiko-san nodded happily. “Oh yes. He’s always made me laugh; it was his awful jokes that made me notice him in the first place, you know…”

My smile grew very wide indeed. “Ah, I see. Well then, thank you for the compliment, but you should probably know…”

-x-x-x-

_“WHAT?!”_

-x-x-x-

 

When Irina returned ten minutes later, I left the house last to wink at Sachiko. “Just remember the deal, alright Sachiko-san?”

The housewife nodded happily, a gleam of mischief in her eye. “I will, Asia-kun. I’ll let Issei know you’d like him to pass a message to his friends at school, too.”

Even compared to how she had appeared when I first arrived at the house she looked years younger and carried herself more lightly. She wasn’t actually younger, but she was now about as well as she possibly could be for her age without exercising regularly, which was already a fairly big change. I’d have to make sure I came back to meet Gorou-san, too - the life of a Japanese worker was fraught with stress, so having some of the build-up cut down could only be good for him.

I waved at Sachiko over my shoulder, seeing a slightly dazed Issei standing behind her in the hall, as I followed after Xenovia and Irina. The former once more had the wrapped Excalibur Destruction slung over her back, while the latter was walking like she was in a stupor. Walking up beside them both, taking my usual spot in the middle of our three-man (Hah!) formation, I raised an eyebrow. “Irina? Did you see a ghost or something?”

Xenovia raised an eyebrow at me and I waved her off. Yes we’d dealt with much worse than just ghosts, but her very literal view of idioms wasn’t needed at the moment.

“...God has set a truly great test of faith in front of me…” the brunette replied dazedly, almost walking into a lamp-post before I pulled her out of the way by her shoulder. “Redeeming someone who has fallen so far from God...truly, fate is a cruel mistress…”

This time it was my turn to raise an eyebrow at Xenovia, who shrugged before turning to Irina. “I don’t know why you’re so focussed on trying to redeem him. He’s become a Devil; even if he wanted to, he could never again be welcome in the arms of the Church.”

She said it very matter-of-factly, but it was still enough to snap Irina out of her daze. “I don’t accept that!” she declared, turning on Xenovia with fire in her eyes. “God loves all his children; even if he’s wandered off the path, Ise-kun is still someone worth saving!” Her fist rose in front of her, clenched tight. “I waited seven years! There’s no way I’ll let some Devil take Ise-kun away from me now!”

She turned to face forward once more, striding forward full of fire and conviction. “Not even that troublesome blonde Devil will deter me! Lov-I mean, Faith shall prevail!”

I shook my head ruefully as I watched her go, but even as Xenovia and I stepped forwards after her I found myself wondering.

What did Kiba have to do with this?

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

**Gasper**

After Irina Shidou departed to reconvene with her group, I hopped off my branch and lowered myself to the ground with a tendril of solidified shadow. I sauntered over to an abnormally thoughtful Issei and clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Alright, Hyoudou-kun, how’s about I walk you back to your house? Rias-buchou will want to know about this, so I’ll head back to the clubhouse after I make sure you don’t take a wrong turn and end up stumbling into a Cthulhu ritual or something.”

Issei blinked at me, then apparently remembered I had been there all along as he yelled out, “Just how unreliable do you think I am?!” He paused. “For that matter, who  _are_  you?! I’ve never even met you, and yet you’ve been living in my shadow?! Wait...could this be the ultra-rare Yandere Route?!”

A dopeslap upside the head silenced his ravings for the moment. “First off, I’d sooner eat a Holy Sword without ketchup than live in your shadow, nevermind be in a relationship with you. Second, I already introduced myself. Third, your reliability is subject to debate, but that’s a discussion for another time.”

I sighed aloud. “But if I must introduce myself again...listen well!” Issei snapped to attention. “I am Gasper Vladi, Bishop of Rias Gremory! I have served Rias for seven long years, and as such, I am your sempai, in spite of me being younger than you. Got it?”

I painted a smile that could only be described as  _menacing_  on to my face. The pervert swallowed audibly and looked slightly pale, to my satisfaction.

“Now come! We should get you home before your mother starts to worry...more than any mother does, anyways.”

With that, I became as darkness once more, weaving my very being into the shadow of Issei Hyoudou. The boy shuddered; clearly, the action either disturbed him or aroused him. I  _really_ didn’t care to know which.

A quarter of an hour later, Issei had been deposited at his home and I set out to return to Rias.

The shadows had begun to lengthen, so I was able to traverse the distance to the school much quicker by moving through the interconnected shadows at the speed of thought. I had long since practiced this, among other routes around Kuoh, much as a roof runner would.

In bare minutes, I emerged from a shadow beneath the wide branches of a tree, strategically positioned to give me a discrete exit from Shadowform near the clubhouse. I moved with some haste to enter the clubhouse, passing Kiba sitting off to the side and acting all brooding.

_‘Fucking Excaliburs. If Saber could see this shit she’d have an apoplexy, fictional existence or not.’_

I nodded genially to Kiba; I’d already offered to lend a listening ear, but in the end it was up to him to take me up on that. There was only so much I could do for these broken children (and wasn’t  _that_  a funny thought, considering my physical age and past experiences).

In short order, I’d entered the weathered building and made my way to the main room, where Rias sat brooding at her desk. The small form of Koneko was barely visible in the deep cushions of a soft couch, where she sat curled much like her namesake, consuming sweets with all the deliberate inevitability of a gunman with a barrel full of tuna.

Akeno, however, was notably and unsurprisingly absent.

When it became clear that Rias hadn’t registered my presence, I cleared my throat and her head snapped up in surprise. As her eyes fixed on me, she seemed to calm slightly. “Oh, Gasper-kun. Is there something I can do for you?”

I leaned against the couch that was doing its level best to swallow Koneko before she did the same to all of her sweets. “Hyoudou-kun’s childhood friend, who is an Exorcist, has returned, and she brought two colleagues.” I paused for a moment, just long enough for the words to sink in, and spoke before Rias could begin to panic. “Fortunately, these three Exorcists seem to be relatively reasonable, when compared to some. I don’t believe that Hyoudou-kun is in any immediate danger. I  _do_  want to know why they are in Kuoh, a sentiment I’m sure you share, which is why I want your blessing to tail them.”

Rias stood swiftly, toppling the chair behind her. “Absolutely not! You’re strong and clever, there’s no denying that, but we don’t know how strong  _they_  are, and they outnumber you three to one!” Rias exhaled, picked up her chair, and sank back into it wearily.

I nodded, having anticipated that sort of response. I shot a questioning look at Koneko, who blinked blankly at me, then gave the slightest inclination of her head. “And if I brought Koneko with me? You know we’ve got good synergy as a team.”

Rias sighed, a complicated expression marring her features. She was clearly torn between wanting to know what was going on in her city and wanting to keep her Peerage, her  _family_ , safe.

Thankfully for my curiosity, she made the correct decision.

“Very well. You and Koneko can go, but if things look like they are going to get even  _mildly dangerous_ , you are to get out of there  _immediately_. Understand?”

“Yes ma’am.” There wasn’t a hint of irony in my voice; even I, the Shitpost that Flaps in the Night, couldn’t make fun of my King’s devotion to family.

Koneko broke free of the couch’s fell grasp, the last piece of candy vanishing into the endless abyss of her stomach as she did so. With a nod and a “We’ll be back, Prez.”, she followed me out of the schoolhouse.

Since I wasn’t alone, we had to take the slower route - but I had a fair idea of where we’d find them…

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

**Asia**

“This place…” I muttered, turning on the spot as I regarded the church we stood in, “is in much better shape than I was expecting.”

Oh, the place was definitely falling apart - obviously no-one had performed any maintenance here for a very long while - but it didn’t show any signs of having hosted a battle. The windows were still intact, the pews only slightly out of place, the doors still fighting a losing battle against entropy but fighting nonetheless…

If it weren’t for the way my hackles were rising, I wouldn’t have been able to tell this was a Fallen Angel hideout for a while. Well - excepting my... _unconventional_ memories, of course.

“I checked the chambers downstairs,” Xenovia reported, climbing up through the hole beneath the altar. “There are signs that a group of people were staying in the quarters there, but apart from the disturbance and some trash there isn’t anything there.”

Well. This was intriguing. Either the Gremory crew were much better at cleanup than I had expected, the Sitri Peerage had done that job for them, or something beyond just me had gone a bit screwy.

Of course. Nothing could ever be simple.

“Then I guess we should clean up, if we’re going to be staying here,” I declared, Xenovia nodding as she started to head back downstairs. I, personally, stayed upstairs, since it was where I could best serve.

I had learned a great deal in seventeen years. About breaking and mending, in particular. People mostly - but as a Sacred Gear holder I had a better inclination to the mystical than most humans, and as one of the eight current users of the Smile of the Holy Mother, Twilight Healing, my talents there ran in a very specific direction.

A faint ripple of green light across my fingers deposited a pair of delicate, almost crystalline rings on my middle fingers, the jewellery emitting a soft glow afterwards that lit up my immediate area without ever seeming bright enough to do so. A few seconds of concentration later a spell-circle began to rotate above each, my learned magical ability channeled through the Sacred Gear that I had been born with.

Standing at the head of the aisle and holding my hands out to the sides, I walked forward, brushing my hands across the pews as I went. Wood was one of the easiest materials to work with for me, so it wasn’t much effort to leave a spinning emerald circle identical to the ones over my rings hovering over the surface of each as I touched it.

From the area under the circle spreading outwards, each pew’s condition improved. Cracks, warps and splinters were repaired as the wood groaned and gained enough life to drive out the imperfections, mould and insect colonies pushed from their moorings as their spaces became filled with new life.

The first pews were already back to near-perfect condition when I finished my first pass, and by the time I had walked back to the front pushing each pew back into position they were all perfectly serviceable. The doors received the same treatment, as did their frame, and I took a minute’s break to gather my thoughts before I did anything else.

It was as I did so, standing in the church’s doorframe, that Irina wandered into my view. “There’s nothing untoward in the woods,” she reported simply as she approached. “It’s kind of hard to see when it’s so late thou-”

She cut off when her foot apparently caught the bottom of the doorframe as she went to step past me, sending the brunette toppling forwards. I caught her, going to a knee in doing so, and as I stood back up with her she whispered in my ear.  _“Two watchers twenty-metres deep in the treeline at your two o’clock. I don’t know one of them but I can see her, the other is a feeling but I met a Devil earlier who could become shadow.”_

Her speech was rapid and terse, but once she was standing again she was back to smiles and bubbles. “Ah, sorry Asia! I guess I’m not used to the robes yet!”

I chuckled, clapping her on the shoulder three times.  _Third_. “It’s fine, Irina - just remember what Master Iter taught us.”  _Forward._

“‘The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step - unless you’re Irina Shidou, in which case it begins with a stumble and ends with a bang.’” She quoted, putting on a sulky look.  _Approach approved conditionally. Will attack on first mistake._

I squeezed her shoulder, beaming and lightly pushing her into the church. “You’ll get the hang of it soon, Irina.”  _Acknowledged._

Irina wandered past the pews, staying slow in the view of the watchers. She’d pick up speed once she reached the underground and have Xenovia filled in quickly.

Distance from my position to Xenovia’s most likely position was...what, a hundred metres? Those two could cross that distance in a few seconds if they wanted to, so unless I went down instantly we could have them outnumbered before they could pull anything major.

Which was assuming, of course, that this was going to turn into a fight. Personally, I hoped not; if it was Devils out there then it  _should_  be Gremory or Sitri, none of whom I was interested in fighting. Of course, Irina said the one she met could  _become shadow,_  and the only Devil who might be capable of that locally should still be sealed away, so who knew?

One way or another, I stepped past the church’s doorway, feeling the faint looming sense of its threshold dissipate as I passed outside its range. Pacing a few steps toward the treeline, I rummaged around in one of the many expanded pockets I had bribed another Exorcist into sewing for me, finding what I was looking for fairly quickly and retrieving it.

I opened the box of Pocky with a slight flourish, sighing happily as I delicately retrieved a single stick and regarded it in the moonlight. Then I took a bite, closing my eyes to savour it.

Some things in this life I had become so used to that I could barely remember what it was like to find them strange. Others were still irritating. Some, however, I was still grateful remained novel; the taste of chocolate was one such thing.

I happily finished the rest of my stick in silence, pausing as I swallowed its remains. “You know, as an Exorcist, I’m technically supposed to watch what I eat. ‘A man’s body is his temple’ and everything.” I idly shook the Pocky box from side to side, creating a rustling sound. “Of course, Dulio kind of ruins that rule just by existing, and he’s really good at smuggling the good stuff into the Vatican.”

I retrieved another stick.  _Crunch._

“Still. It’d be a shame to eat these alone.”

I stopped talking, waiting in silence with the box of Pocky held away from my body, tilted towards the treeline.

It was only a few moments before a soft voice echoed from beyond the treeline. “Koneko Toujou, I swear to the Maō. If you go out there for some  _fucking_  chocolate… _and of course she goes_. I’m too old for this shit.”

Even as a petite, white haired girl emerged from the forest, golden eyes focused with razor-keen precision on the box in my hand, an effeminate blonde garbed in an outfit that seemed vaguely familiar materialized from the bushes behind her, giving a jaunty wave.

“Yo, Exorcist-kun. While I appreciate the offer, I’ll have to decline. After all, Holy Water is a perfectly valid ingredient to use in chocolate, and it wouldn’t affect  _you_  any.” They shrugged. “As much as I like chocolate, it’s not worth the ris- _you put that fucking Pocky back or so help me I’ll never bake you a cake again._ ” Their last words were directed at Koneko, who had been inching towards my candy during the whole time the newcomer had been talking and had just taken one.

The girl froze, then slowly, deliberately, lowered it back into the box.

The youth sighed, palming their face. “I swear. Why am  _I_  the mother  _and_  father of this Peerage?”

I chuckled to myself, even as I pulled my Pocky back towards myself. Koneko Toujou, because it was definitely her, followed the box’s movement with her eyes even as I tucked it into one of my robe’s outer pockets, leaving it visible. “I’d have to guess paranoia, myself.” I replied, watching the blonde. Considering they were with Koneko and their colouration, there was only one person I could think this was - yet, that  _should_  have been impossible. They  _should_  have been sealed away in the old school building at Kuoh Academy.

Oh well, I could improvise...and at least it wasn’t Kiba. Right now, a meeting with him...wouldn’t end well.

“I have to admit, I never even thought about making sweets with holy water.” A memory rose, and I paused. “...Though, that  _would_  explain how Dulio was able to subdue a Stray Devil by holding up some of his personal Toblerone bars in a cross and chanting ‘The power of Carbs compels you’ over and over.” The Vatican was nowhere near as serious as it probably should have been when you got high enough up the ranks. Dulio Gesualdo, in particular, was the goofiest motherfucker I’d yet met in any of my years. A great guy and a damn good Exorcist, but a goofy motherfucker all the same.

The blonde appeared to be suppressing a laugh. “My, my. That’s...certainly something. I guess he deserves a big Toblerone, then. I’m sure that glutton could finish one faster than even this one.” They jerked a thumb at their companion, who shot them a deadpan glare which they ignored.

Their face then sobered. “Funny stories aside, I, along with the candy-addict, am here on behalf of our King, Rias Gremory, Heiress to House Gremory of the Seventy Two Pillars of Hell, Queen of the Andals and Mother of-wait, no. Forget those last ones.” The cheeky blonde gave a wink and a peace sign.

I narrowed my eyes. Interesting...Game of Thrones had hit the height of its popularity once it became a TV show, but that hadn’t happened yet. I’d checked and a lot of things I enjoyed were currently non-existent save for my memories. They might have read the book, or…

“Rias Gremory, huh?” I mused aloud, tapping my fingers on the Pocky box in my outside pocket. Koneko was still staring at it, and I had to admit to being amused by the tiny twitches of her eyes. “Well, we were going to talk to her tomorrow, but if you really want we could probably give you something to tell her before then.” I jerked my thumb over my shoulder. “It can’t take too long though, I’m afraid. The girls need their beauty sleep, you know?”

I didn’t need to look to know that Xenovia would be leaning against the church wall beside the doorframe, Excalibur Destruction’s wrapped form propped up beside her. Irina would be less noticeable, but still just on the inside of the church’s threshold as she looked out.

They always fell into the same poses. Not that I wasn’t guilty of that as well, of course…

As Koneko was content to ogle my candy, it fell to the blonde to answer. “That would be appreciated, yes. There’s few things more valuable than information, especially when individuals enter your home, bearing objects of power with unclear intentions. I hope you’ll forgive the presumption.” They folded their hands behind their back and fixed me with an expectant, crimson-eyed stare over the top of their shades.

“Of course, of course,” I replied, waving off the weight behind the words. “Well then…” I changed my expression and posture, standing up straighter and putting on the same poker face I wore to the monthly Exorcist Poker Night. “The reason for our coming to Kuoh is…”

I paused for effect.

The blonde’s face remained impassive; clearly, they knew what I was doing. Ah, well. There was more than one way to skin a cat. If they were going to be like this, then…

I almost-closed my eyes, smiled widely and tilted my head to the side. “We got lost on the road of life!”

Behind me, I heard the sound of Xenovia facepalming. The impact dislodged a slate from the church’s roof; I could hear it slide down and fall to the ground.

The blonde removed their shades, slipped them into a pocket, and closed their eyes. They inhaled deeply - then snapped their eyes open with a shout of  _“YOSH!”_  before striking that damned dreaded pose.

_‘Oh dear sweet Christ in Heaven please no.’_

The blonde held the pose for a moment, then reverted to a casual pose, retrieving their shades from their pocket and sniffing disdainfully. “If you think you can match me in a game of shitpostery... _you’re gonna have a bad time_.”

_There_  it was. That was a line that they couldn’t possibly have known...unless they were like me.

Of all the things I had ever expected from my life, finding another person like me wasn’t one of them. Of course, there were dozens of questions that needed to be asked and answered now...but not here. Xenovia and Irina knew me too well; the robe would hide the body language that might give me away too quickly, but they’d notice immediately if I tried to catch the blonde’s attention as they had caught mine.

...Unless…

I tucked my hands into the outer pockets of my robe, giving a grin and a shrug. “Well, I certainly wouldn’t want  _that_. There’s more than enough people who have  _bones_ to pick with me already, you know?” I kept my head tilted, closing only my right eye as I met the blonde’s gaze more steadily than my casual tone would suggest.

The pose or the line could, taken alone, just be fluke references. But both of them together was more than enough proof that I knew exactly what the blonde was referencing. And if I knew what they were referencing, even though it didn’t exist here yet, then there was only one conclusion they could reach.

...Actually there were at least three, thinking about it, but only one that they would reach. I hoped.

There was a clattering sound as the blonde’s shades fell from now nerveless fingers. Their ruby eyes widened to an almost comical width, even as their jaw dropped open, revealing conclusive proof of their identity in the form of two fangs.

Slowly, dementedly, a chuckle built in the depths of Gasper’s...or  _whoever_  this really was’ throat. It hit its peak in moments, echoing forth into the open and bouncing off trees and the church. “Of all the things, it  _would_  be Sans that finds another, wouldn’t it?” He was clearly keeping his statements vague, an act I appreciated.

“Well, I suppose it seems only fitting,” I commented. Grass crunched beside me as Xenovia walked forward and placed a hand on my shoulder; the question went unheard as I looked sideways at her. “Say, Xenovia, do you remember me telling you about my pen-pal from back when I was in the orphanage?”

The blunette stared at me. “...No?”

I blinked. “Didn’t I tell you? I’m sure I told you.”

Xenovia looked rather unsure, and I pressed on, waving the question and its unfortunate possibilities away. “Well, we had a pretty good back-and-forth thing going for a while; we even wrote some stuff to send to one another...and that line was one of the best either of us came up with. I could never forget it.” I turned back to Gasper, putting a wide smile on my face. “It must be a really small world to run into you in person after all this time.”

The blond grinned, his sunglasses now back over his eyes. “Perhaps. On the other hand, maybe this is simply an inevitable conclusion of powers beyond our ken concentrating here. Or maybe I’m delusional? Who knows? Half the fun of life lies in finding out where your own personal insanity weaves into the world’s madness, after all.”

He then clapped his hands. “As amusing as this diversion has been, and as glad I am that I encountered you, I  _would_  still like to know the  _actual_  purpose for your presence here. My King is... _protective_ , shall we say, and the last thing I want is for that protectiveness to needlessly cause trouble for either of our groups.” He grinned. “Just because we’re Devils and you all are Exorcists, doesn’t mean we can’t be at least  _cordial_  to one another, right?” He spread his arms almost invitingly.

Beside me, Xenovia’s right arm - hidden from the Devils’ view by my body - rose to my lower back. There, her finger drew a line and tapped once, followed a second later by the press of her knuckles.  _I want to punch him in the face._

I barely held onto my straight-ish face as I shifted my right foot back beneath my robes, gently pressing the heel against the toes of her right foot.  _Hold position._

I could feel her pouting at me without looking, even though I knew she wouldn’t have actually shifted her expression. She had become far too good at that.

“I’ve never seen the need to care much about  _what_  a person is, so long as they’re a good person,” I agreed. “Very well then. We’ve come to Kuoh on a manhunt investigating stolen Church property. Anything more can wait until our groups meet tomorrow. After all…” I looked pointedly at the blond’s shadow. “You never know who’s listening.”

“Touché. Well, I suppose that we’ll leave it at that, for the time being.” He turned to his companion. “Come on, Koneko. I’ll buy you a carton of Pocky on the way home.”

By the way the petite Rook perked up at that, she’d likely instantly forgiven him for his earlier threat.

That didn’t stop me from raising a finger in front of my mouth, the universal symbol for ‘quiet’, and throwing the carton from my pocket under-arm to her once Gasper had turned away.

Koneko moved to snatch it out of the air, but a tendril of shadow snaked up from Gasper’s own, causing Xenovia to tense behind me. It wrapped around the box and reeled it in, depositing it in the Dhampir’s grasp. He shot me an amused look, daintily removed a single biscuit stick from the box, consumed it in a single chomp, then passed another to Koneko after a moment of consideration. “If you’re done undermining my ‘parenting’, I need to be going.” He shot at me with a smirk.

Koneko looked torn between annoyance at the parenting comment and delight at the Pocky. In the end, she settled for disgruntledly munching on the chocolate treat as the duo walked away.

I resisted the temptation to start pulling my various other snack supplies from my robes and launching them after the two. It would be a waste of perfectly good sugar...even if my inner child protested letting Gasper have the last word.

His time would come. As a founding member of the Vatican’s most infamous confection-smuggling ring, I swore it.

For now, though, I had two curious, nosy Exorcist girls to try and talk into believing that I was part of some super-secret attempt at fostering peace through having the different species’ children communicate. Or something like that, at least - something more convincing than just a ‘pen pal’, anyway.

Ah well. Such was the life of Asia Argento, veteran candy-smuggler and Exorcist extraordinaire.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

**Gasper**

Well. Today had certainly yielded some interesting revelations. To think that there would be another person dropped into this world. How very... _fascinating._  I was hopeful that their amicable nature wasn’t just an act. After all, it had been so very long since I’d had a good, long verbal shitpost session with my friends…

Fuck. Now I was crying again. I’d thought I’d gotten over that loss...I guess I was wrong.

Koneko regarded me with concern...or, what passed for concern when coming from her stoic countenance.

In return I simply shook my head. “It’s nothing. Just memories of old friends.”

The two of us continued on our way back to the clubhouse, though we stopped to make good on my promise on the way. The way Koneko’s eyes glinted when faced with the massive collection of confectionary goodness was equally adorable and concerning, as usual.

After my wallet had been drained substantially by Koneko’s addiction (thank the Maō for the money I made through my contracts, both online and around Kuoh), I returned to the school for the second time in as many hours. I noted that Kiba had scarcely shifted positions since I’d left and made a mental note to talk with him before the meeting tomorrow. If I could make sure he didn’t do anything foolish during that time, all the better.

Once we entered, Koneko wandered off to enjoy her treats. I, on the other hand, had a meeting to attend.

I entered the club room with nary a sound, taking in the familiar sight of Rias dozing at her desk. Instincts warred with necessity internally, and I sighed. As much as I wanted to leave her to rest peacefully, the only sign of my passage a draped blanket and a cushioning pillow, I knew that she’d want me to wake her for this.

Reluctantly, I laid a slim hand on the shoulder of my King and shook her lightly. “President, please wake up. I have news.”

Rias yawned cutely, and stretched her arms above her, the motion doing... _interesting_  things to her form. I averted my eyes, stifling a blush with my Blood Magic (truly, the most useful application of Blood Manipulation). Even after seven years being around Akeno and Rias as they grew from cute young girls to the voluptuous near-women they were now, I still got flustered from time to time. I wasn’t  _Kiba_ , after all.

Of course, I wasn’t  _Issei_ , either. I actually had a modicum of self control. Admittedly we were  _both_  utterly shameless, but I made much better use of it. In my opinion, at least, and certainly that of the school’s female population.

Smacking her lips, my King finally registered my presence. Her eyes scanned the room for Koneko, and when she found no sign of her, her eyes snapped to me.

“I bought her another carton of Pocky; she’s off eating it somewhere.” Rias nodded, then wordlessly gestured to a chair in front of her desk. I sank into it with a sigh of relief.

I folded my hands in my lap as I regarded my King. “Koneko and I approached that old church on the hill from the forest side. Before we managed to get closer than eyeshot, they’d noticed us.”

I sighed, rolling my neck with a satisfying  _pop_. “One of them seemed a bit...antsy. I don’t think she liked me very much. Issei’s little friend was  _definitely_ playing up the ditzy act; they were acting too competently for it to be anything else.” I closed my eyes, considering how to phrase the next bit. “I felt a sense of dread from them, like the way we feel around churches, but much worse. The angry one was carrying a massive bundle; I think it was a Holy Sword of significant power.”

Rias’ eyes became razor-focused. “Holy Sword users, in  _my_ town?!”

_‘It’s more likely than you think.’_  As usual, I failed to suppress my snark entirely, though I at least had the sense to keep it internal.

I held up a finger. “As crazy as this might sound, I  _don’t_ think the group of trained Christian warriors bearing weapons forged of Heaven’s Light have come to this town to kill us Devils who inhabit it. Especially considering the way the third member of their group acted.”

My mind fixed on the third and most interesting of the the three. “The third one...they were clearly picked for their diplomatic skill, if nothing else. It felt like I was talking to an actual person, rather than a mouthpiece of the Church.” I chuckled. “Of course, the fact that they were able to easily match wits with me, and in fact turned out to be an old pen-pal of mine,  _certainly_ helped.”

Rias eyed me with some measure of amusement. “Could it be? Is my little Gasper-kun finally growing up, getting his first crush?” She wiped an imaginary tear from her eye. “I never thought I’d see the day.”

I gave her a deadpan stare that Koneko would’ve approved of. “I’ve been more mature than you are now since I was eight years old and you know it.”

Rias shot me a pout, then sobered. “So,  _why_  are there Exorcists in my city?”

I popped a knuckle absently. “They’ll be coming by tomorrow to explain in greater detail, but apparently there have been some thefts of significant church property, and they managed to track those objects here. I doubt they’re going to accuse us of stealing them, but they’ll probably ask us to stay out of the way or something. Only my former pen-pal seems like they’d really be willing to work with us.”

Rias nodded. “Very well. I’ll be ready for tomorrow. Now, I’m going to turn in; I suggest you do the same.”

I snapped a salute. “Will do, boss lady. Sleep well.”

The both of us exited the room, Rias locking it behind her with a gesture and a flex of her will. Then we walked together to the part of the building that housed our dorms before we parted ways for the night.

…

I really  _did_  mean to go directly to bed, you know? But as usual, my overactive mind decided that it would be better to keep me up and worry at the thought of another person from my world, like Cerberus gnawing at the bones of dead Cyclopes. So I stayed up for several more hours, tapping out random thoughts on my smartphone in between bouts of memes and shitposting.

Truly, my work was never done. What is one to do when he’s Gasper Vladi, Devil den-mother by day, Professional Chunnibyō by night and full-time Shitlord?

_Enjoy life however he can, of course._

**AN: Well, here’s the first full-length chapter. Please, enjoy its girth.**


	3. Chapter Two: Come All Ye Fair and Tender...Ladies?

**Chapter Two: Come All Ye Fair and Tender...Ladies?**

**Gasper**

The next day, I awoke to see that Rias had sent a mass text detailing the meeting to everyone in the Peerage. It was to occur early in the afternoon, right after classes came to a close.

I, mercifully, did not have to attend school, as I had tested out using the college-level education that I had retained from my past life. Rias had seemed a bit put out that she wouldn’t get to dress me up in a uniform (likely a female one), but I think she was more pleased that one of her family was a ‘genius’.

And  _oh boy_ , I wasn’t even  _slightly_  eager for the moment she found out otherwise.

In any event, this gave me the opportunity to roll over and sleep in, in a vain effort to make up for my many hours of missed sleep.

I managed to get about five and half hours before I reawoke. That left me with roughly an hour to prepare for the meeting and to meet with Kiba, so I tossed on a t-shirt bearing the phrase “I’m Cuter Than Your Girl” in English above a picture of Astolfo, slid on some jeans and my open fronted jacket and left my room.

I put on my shades as I walked from the old building to the main schoolhouse. Thanks to both my superhuman sense of smell and my Shadowform, I managed to make it to Kiba’s classroom without being seen.

Peering through the window, I could see him bent over his desk with clasped hands, his eyes glazed as he looked at something other than than the classroom around him.

I sighed. I knew that this wouldn’t be easy, but  _really_. Rias would have an aneurysm if he let his grades slip, to say nothing of if he spaced out in battle again and let himself get hurt.

I pulsed my Demonic Energy lightly, which thankfully seemed to be enough to snap him from his brooding. I waved to him from the window, and he quickly excused himself from class.

He looked at me with a plastic smile, not unlike the ones he’d give his ‘fan club’. “What can I do for you, Gasper-kun? Did Rias need something else for her meeting with... _them?”_  The last word was packed with so much venom that it could’ve felled Kokabiel (would that that were possible).

“C’mon, Kiba-sempai. I need to talk to you, and the hallway ain’t the place for it.” With a beckoning gesture, I led the way.

We walked a ways to an empty classroom, where I plopped down on a desk. “Alright. I know you’ve got some severe hatred going on for the Church, and it’s largely justified.  _However_. The Exorcists are probably going to come in, say some crap about ‘not interfering with their search’ and walk off with their noses in the air and their ass-sticks firmly lodged.”

I didn’t honestly believe that it’d go that smoothly, considering Little Miss Deus Vult, but I could hope, right?

In any case, my disparagement of our would-be visitors seemed to loosen Kiba up a bit, if the slight,  _genuine_  grin on his face was any indication.

“As... _evocative_ as that mental image is, I’m not sure where you’re going with this.”

I hopped off the desk and paced over to the Knight, shoving my finger in his face. “My  _point_  is, tensions are going to be high. Neither of us wants Rias to have any  _more_  shit to deal with on top of her current workload. So, for the love of the Maō…”

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

**Asia**

“...don’t do anything stupid, alright?”

Xenovia’s arms were crossed as she held my gaze steadily, Irina standing a bit awkwardly beside us.

“I will act as is befitting of an Exorcist of the Holy Cath-”

“Oh, cut it out, Xenovia!” I sighed, rubbing my temples. “You know as well as I do that the actions ‘befitting of an Exorcist’ are completely up to interpretation. If we spent any time listening to the Men in Hats we’d be running in circles all day.”

Xenovia bristled slightly, but didn’t do anything more. We had never quite seen eye-to-eye on certain matters, the Vatican leadership chief among them, but each of us had a great deal of leeway with the other no matter what. Today, though, I couldn’t bend for Xenovia’s benefit as I normally would. Not over this.

“In that school,” I began, pointing to the building whose gates we stood just outside, “are Rias Gremory and Sona Sitri. The little sisters of not just  _one_  Satan, but  _two._  There are  _not enough shades of brown_  for the  _sheer amount of shit_  that we could start here, even by accident. I would more cheerfully juggle nitroglycerin than be any kind of Exorcist anywhere near this town, but the simple fact is that  _we are here.”_

I was standing right in front of her now, barely inches away and most of it vertical. Damn but I missed being tall. “We’re here, and we have a job to do and a message to deliver. So please, let me do what  _I’m_  good at so we can go and do what  _you’re_  good at.”

I’m not entirely sure what quirk of genetics gifted Xenovia with natural blue-green hair and golden eyes, but the overall effect is quite otherworldly up close. The  _look_  in those eyes, like a raptor sighting prey from on high, though...that was something she learned. And  _damn_  but she learned it well.

Still, I held the gaze. Because if there was one thing I was sure of, completely and utterly, it was that no matter what happened Xenovia Quarta and I would always stand at each other’s backs.

And it was because of that bond that Xenovia nodded grudgingly, adjusting Excalibur Destruction on her back. “Let’s just hurry it up.” She muttered. “I can smell them from here.”

I shrugged internally, Irina sighing in relief even as we turned to walk onto the academy grounds. That was probably as good as I was going to get.

Our first stop was the Occult Research Club, AKA the Gremory Peerage, and it only took a couple of minutes to find the old school building by following the unsettling buzz of Devil wards. Walking up to the front door, I knocked and waited.

From the other side of the door, a familiar effeminate voice called, “I am the Gatekeeper. Are you the Keymaster?”

Xenovia and Irina both blinked, turning inward to look at me as I stifled a grin. “There is no Keymaster here; only Zuul.”

The door swung open to reveal Gasper in all his glory, a manic grin splitting his face. “ _You_. I  _like_  you.” The blond stepped to the side, sweeping a hand at the hallway behind him. “Welcome to our abode. We have candy, shitposts and shitposting accessories.”

A smirk still decorating his face, Gasper motioned for us to accompany him as he started walking. “Rias is awaiting you in the club room. Follow me.”

Normal procedure set our exploratory formation as single-file Xenovia-Me-Irina. Heaviest hitter at the front, ‘VIP’ in the middle, most situationally aware at the back because monsters are fond of the classics. This time, despite Xenovia obviously itching to take point on the ‘invasion’, I led the pack with my oldest friend just behind me. Irina still took up the rear, though, and I knew she was mapping our path as we walked in case we needed to make a swift-but-not-instant exit.

Instant exits were more Xenovia’s specialty.

Once we arrived at a pair of slightly more elaborate doors than any others we’d passed, Gasper raised a hand to knock, his face more serious than I’d seen it yet. “President, our guests have arrived.”

From beyond the door, a distinctly female voice replied, “Well, let them in, Gasper-kun.”

Gasper rolled his eyes with a fond smile on his face; clearly the two had a good rapport if he found the authoritative tone of the voice amusing rather than sobering. “You heard the boss lady. Come on in.” With a flourish, he pushed the double doors open.

The room was laid out with a table in the centre, couches almost too poofy to be real set to either side of it, and an office desk in front of the far wall.

Naturally, Rias was seated behind the desk, her hands tented in a familiar pose. To her left stood a voluptuous, black-haired young woman who could only be Akeno Himejima, one hand on a desert tray covered in assorted pasties. From the looks of things, there was one platter missing.

Sitting in a chair immediately to the right of Akeno, a small, white-haired girl clutched the aforementioned missing platter. In the span of a few seconds, six pastries had disappeared into the merciless void of Koneko’s endless hunger.

To Rias’s other side, a blank-faced Yuuto Kiba sat in a chair, his spine ramrod straight and his knuckles white.

_‘...Well, that’s a better reaction than I had expected. I guess Gasper has had some effect on these people.’_

Finally, Issei Hyoudou sat on the couch, his eyes alternating between focusing awkwardly on Irina and side-eyeing Rias.

Rias raised her eyes to focus on me. “So. Exorcists from the Church. First, may I offer you some refreshments? You showed hospitality to my adorable servants; it is only fair I show you the same courtesy.”

I regarded the rapidly-diminishing plate of pastries with an amused smile. “Thank you, Miss Gremory. If Miss...Toujou, I believe, can spare a few I’d be more than happy to try some.”

If Xenovia asked later, I would tell her that I accepted because I was being friendly and because I could survive poisoning the best out of the three of us. It definitely wasn’t because I slept in and didn’t eat breakfast.

Definitely.

Still, the pastries  _were_  delicious. I stopped myself after eating only a few though; Irina was giving Rias a very subtle stink-eye and Xenovia was about as stiff as Kiba. The tension was rising despite my best efforts; it seemed I should try and cut through this meeting as quickly as possible.

“Now then, on to business,” I declared, rummaging in my cloak for a moment and producing a crumpled letter which I held in my lap. “The long and short of things is this: recently, a fairly wide spread of Catholic, Protestant and Eastern Orthodox churches were attacked. Three in particular, however, suffered fairly major damage and the loss of each site’s most valuable artefact...artefacts that were part of a set, in fact.” I gave a wry smile. “To be more specific, the items stolen were Excalibur Fragments.”

Kiba’s mask of cold indifference shattered like glass struck by a cannonball. From the tension in his muscles and the way he gripped the armrests of the chair, I could tell he was barely restraining himself from leaping to his feet.

A dark look passed over both Rias and Akeno’s faces, while the only sign of Koneko’s distress was the fact that her hands were no longer a blur. Indeed, she’d stopped eating altogether.

Issei merely looked confused, while Gasper, predictably, merely shut his eyes and leaned against the wall tiredly.

“Naturally, you can see why the Church’s upper echelons are...oh, how to put this delicately…” I tapped my chin, then snapped my fingers. “Ah, I’ve got it – flipping their shit.”

Gasper cracked an eyelid and chuckled quietly.

Rias looked between the two of us and spoke with a dead tone, “Oh, Maō help us. There’s two of them.” She shook her head wearily, then looked at me with a certain degree of resignation. “I am sure they are.”

Her gaze came to rest on Issei once more, having noticed his clear confusion. “But we’re getting ahead of ourselves. Exorcist-kun, would you mind explaining to Ise-kun what the Excalibur Fragments are? I’m sure you could do a better job than I.”

She looked at me expectantly, and in return I shrugged. “Sure.” I turned to Issei, who seemed a bit embarrassed at having been caught flat-footed. “To cover the basics – roughly fifteen-hundred years ago in Britain, during the Battle of Camlann, King Arthur was slain by his son Mordred. When Mordred then attempted to take up his father’s sword, Excalibur, and become seen as the rightful king, the blade rejected him so completely that it broke apart into seven fragments.

“Each of those seven fragments held one of the powers of the true Excalibur, though much diminished, and remained one of the most powerful Divine Artefacts in the church’s records. Eventually, through magic, alchemy, Faith and probably duct-tape, they managed to fashion each fragment into a full sword of its own. These seven weapons are known as the Excalibur Fragments, and two each are entrusted to the Catholic, Protestant and Eastern Orthodox churches to keep things on the level.”

I paused for a moment as Issei raised a hand. “Ano...Argento-san, you said there were seven Excaliburs, right? So if each church has two…”

“Where’s the seventh?” I completed the question, and when Issei nodded I leaned forward. “Now that is a very good question, Hyoudou-san, because you see…” Issei leaned forward as well, and once we were both in danger of falling off our seats I broke into a wide grin. “I’ll be fucked if I know!”

A few moments later, Issei peeled himself off the floor to sit properly once again and I settled back into my seat with a sigh. “Honestly, no-one’s sure where Excalibur Ruler has gone off to, and that’s been the case for quite some time so we make do. Now, though, three of the remaining six have been stolen with extreme prejudice, which is quite a lot of egg on quite a lot of faces.  _Very important_  faces, at that.” I snorted. “Of course there’s also the matter of all the people whose lives are at risk while the Excaliburs are out of play, as well as all the lives lost in the attacks...but the ‘important’ people aren’t talking about that, so what does little old me know?”

Xenovia knocked me with her shoulder from where she was sitting beside me on one of the couches, leaving me to take a deep breath and offer a tired smile. “Sorry. I knew several people who died in those attacks, and a few more who might never be the same again. It’s...frustrating.”

Issei looked a bit uncomfortable, but still nodded. “Thank you for explaining things, Argento-san.”

I waved him off. “It’s no trouble, Hyoudou-san. It’s just been a long few days.”

Rias cleared her throat. “You have my condolences, Argento-kun. However, why would you come  _here?_  Surely whoever absconded with the Excalibur Fragments wouldn’t come to Kuoh, of all places. If they did,  _why?”_

“Miss Gremory, if I could answer that question I would probably have a big enough salary to support both my crippling sugar addiction  _and_  a hat worthy of the Vatican,” I replied. “The simple fact is that we’re tracking the almost perfectly straight path of church-related killings that leads to Kuoh from the Catholic church where an Excalibur was stolen. Every person in this town who held even a distant connection to the Vatican has died a violent death in recent days, so…” I spread my arms, being careful not to smack Irina and Xenovia in the faces. “Here we are.”

Rias tented her hands again and leaned forward. “I’m sure you don’t believe  _we_  were behind the killings. There is no love lost between my people and the Church, but something like this would be beyond the pale.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Miss Gremory, if I seriously believed that you had the resources at your disposal to launch simultaneous attacks on dozens of churches, with enough forces on hand to decimate multiple squads of highly trained Exorcists, then I probably wouldn’t be sitting here – because as far as I can see there would be only one place you could acquire those, and he is  _well_  above my pay-grade.” I folded my arms. “As things stand, I don’t think that you or Miss Sitri were behind or even related to the attacks, the thefts  _or_  the recent killings. You, quite simply, strike me as good people. Not the kind to go in for random murder.”

Xenovia’s muscles against my shoulder were taut like steel cables. My right hand, concealed by my left sleeve, took a gentle hold of her arm and just held it. She was doing a lot for my sake; if nothing else, I would let her know it was appreciated.

Rias let out a surprised laugh. “An Exorcist calling a Devil a  _good person?_  I never thought I would hear  _that_.” Her face quickly sobered. “Well, since you don’t believe we were responsible, and since your friend there seems about as comfortable here as Gasper-kun would be in a garlic plantation, I can only assume that you want us to stay out of your way. Is that correct?”

I sighed, lifting up the letter I had pulled from my robes earlier. “These are the ‘instructions’ we were given when we left the Vatican,” I told her, unfolding the paper. “There’s a lot of bluster and too many syllables even for my tastes, but it basically says that we’re to tell you and Miss Sitri to back off. Never mind that this is your territory as of the past several years and has been under Devil control for significantly longer than that, or that your experience of the area is much more up-to-date than our own guide’s.”

My fingers went to idle work as I lowered the letter, not paying much attention to my hands as I focussed on Rias. “I’ll be blunt, Miss Gremory. Irina, Xenovia and I were sent here because the fewer people who know the Excaliburs were taken, the less of a PR disaster it will be and the lower the chance there is of someone capitalising on the Church’s weakness. We’re good—damn good, even—but compared to the force we can reasonably expect we’re out of our depth. This could well be a suicide mission if we go it alone.”

I held up the letter, which I had folded into a perfect (if small) cube. I’d learned the habit as a coping exercise and dexterity training years ago, and it was still fun to do idly. Then, in front of everyone there, I placed it on one palm before  _slamming_  my other hand down on it so hard that the air that shot out from under my hand sent a breeze through the room.

The absolutely flattened letter was left on my palm, and when I turned it sideways what floated down was a mess of tiny shreds. The paper couldn’t handle the stress of the compression and had ripped apart. “Now I recognise that the Vatican leadership have made a decision, but given that it’s a stupid-ass decision I’m electing to ignore it.” I leaned forward in my seat. “Rias Gremory, it’s entirely possible that a great deal of shit is about to go down in Kuoh. You don’t need to risk your Peerage if you don’t wish to, but if we must ask for help, I hope you’ll consider it.”

Rias pressed her palms to the surface of her desk and stood. “Of course I will have to discuss this with Sona, but as we both share the responsibility of protecting this town, I don’t foresee any issues.” She then inclined her head. “Of course, the fact that a wound from any one of the Excaliburs would be almost instantaneously fatal for any of us is  _also_  good motivation for us to help you.”

I turned my head to look at both Xenovia and Irina. Each looked back at me; Irina with a glint in her eye and a curl to her lips, Xenovia with hidden tension but a heavily restrained kind of savage glee to her. Internally, I sighed—what troublesome friends I had—but externally I turned back to Rias. “With luck, the Excaliburs themselves will prove not to be an issue. Even if the enemy has people capable of wielding them…”

Xenovia reached her arm out, tweaking the wrappings around her massive blade just a bit. From under the sleeve of Irina’s robe, a rope-like substance protruded for a moment, shining steel-grey as it wound around her wrist in an odd parody of a snake. I could easily feel the Holy aura that washed out into the room from that one moment; not enough to do any damage or even create an uncomfortable atmosphere, but definitely enough to be felt. “They’ll probably have a whole hell of a lot less practice than us.”

Rias blinked, momentarily stunned silent. Unfortunately, that brief moment of silence was filled by a deep, almost animalistic growl. I looked to the source of the noise, then met eyes with Gasper in resigned frustration.

Kiba had half-risen from his seat, fingers clawed and eyes bloodshot. Clearly, he was well and truly at his limit when it came to suppressing his rage.

By the time I glanced at her Xenovia had already risen as well, meeting Kiba’s gaze head-on as one of her hands rested on Excalibur Destruction’s wrapped form. I myself cursed internally and quickly checked the other faces in the room, trying to get a read on the common mind.

Irina was ready to launch herself into a standing position at any second, Excalibur Mimic most likely quivering with tension in the shadows of her sleeve.

Rias had a resigned and weary look on her face, while Akeno’s smile had vanished and been replaced with a frown, her hands open at her sides, ready to fling lightning at the slightest indication of need.

Koneko had set the long-since empty platter to the side, and now she uncrossed her legs. I’d have thought her unconcerned, were it not for the barely noticeable tension in her legs. Issei was looking desperately back and forth, obviously wondering what he was meant to do in this situation. As for Gasper...

Gasper had torn his sunglasses from his face in one swift movement and fixed his gleaming red eyes on his fellow Peerage member. I sensed a surge of energy gather, and a space of absolute stagnation formed around the Knight. Not even the air moved in the bubble of stolen time.

I blinked. ‘ _Wait, what?’_

Gasper sighed aloud, slipping his sunglasses back on. “I apologize for Kiba-kun’s behavior.” He shot Rias a look, who nodded to him. “You see, he was once one of the unlucky few to be taken by one Valper Galilei. I believe your church named him the ‘Genocide Archbishop’?” A hard, mirthless smile adorned the Dhampir’s face.

Xenovia and Irina both hardened their eyes at the mention of the name. I, myself…

_So many bodies. In the small dormitory their chaotic tangle and clasped hands made it hard to tell where one person began and ended, though thankfully the bodies themselves were still intact. Gas was a horrific way to go, but at the very least…_

_...Actually, there was nothing I could think of. There was no ‘at the very least’. I was standing in a dormitory full of slaughtered children. Their faces were twisted in a rictus of agony, their mortal shells left to rot on the floor of an abandoned facility without the slightest care._

_I had failed._

“Asia.”

I blinked, the sound of Xenovia’s voice bringing me back to the present. I turned to look at her, finding that she had lowered herself to my level so she could look at me face-to-face. “The mission budget doesn’t cover replacement furniture,” she said simply.

Looking down and to my right, I realised that the part of the couch’s arm-rest I had been gripping in preparation to rise to my feet had...well, not quite  _exploded_  under my grip. That would require some of the material having managed to escape. No, what had happened was closer to an implosion; though either way, the arm-rest was ruined.

“...Right,” I muttered, shaking my hand to clear off the wood chips and splinters. None of them had managed to get into my skin. “Right, of course.” I glanced over at Rias, though my eyes drifted towards Kiba. “My apologies, Miss Gremory. That name…” My teeth ground together at the mere thought. “It isn’t one I like to hear.”

Rias nodded soberly. Gasper let out a noise like a cross between a scoff and a mirthless chuckle. “Well, there you go. I’m sure all of us would agree that we’d much rather ally with each other than tolerate a monster like Gallilei. There’s our common ground, since if the Excaliburs have been taken, it seems likely that he’s involved. From what Kiba has told me, he was more devoted to the Fragments than he was to the Big Man himself.”

Gasper sighed again, then leaned back against the wall. “Apologies. Please, continue your discussion.”

“I don’t think there’s much more to discuss,” I sighed, standing up and looking regretfully at the couch. “We still have to begin our investigation properly, as well as conduct a meeting with Miss Sitri. There is...a great deal that must be done.”

Rias looked over at Gasper, who’d cracked an eye at the word ‘investigation’. There seemed to be some non-verbal argument going on between them, though their body language did not change a whit. Finally, Rias appeared to capitulate.

“Well, if it’s information gathering you’re after, I’m your man.” Gasper smirked, and stretched out an arm. The Dhampir’s shadow seemed to writhe and become a grotesque parody of the human form. Then, abruptly, a raven flew from the twisted image and landed on his wrist, its eyes surveying the room with far too much intelligence for a natural creature. I noticed absently that Gasper’s shadow had returned to normal.

“Meet Edmund, my Familiar. He’s a Raven Mocker, a Cherokee Shadow Beast. He’s as smart as I am, and between the two of us, we can comb Kuoh  _much_  faster than the three of you could on foot.” He paused. “No offense, of course.”

The Raven Mocker let out a cackle. “Instead, take offense! It’d be funny!”

Gasper looked at the bird-thing with a gimlet eye. “Shut it, or I won’t take you to a cemetery for a week.” Edmund’s beak clattered shut.

Gasper looked back at me. “So?”

Xenovia didn’t like it. Well, she didn’t like  _anything_  about today. Being around Devils, being civil to Devils, not scaring the Devils shitless with her shiny Excalibur, and me smashing a Bishop’s direct orders into scraps probably wasn’t helpful. But still, I could feel her displeasure in the air itself like storm-pressure.

It was one thing to tell the Devils that,  _if_  we needed help, we would ‘allow’ them to help, and quite another to admit that a Devil could accomplish something in a better fashion than she could. Or at least, there was in my friend’s mind.

So I had a choice. I could make our investigation infinitely easier, or I could make my own life infinitely harder in the name of Xenovia’s pride and, by direct correlation, her well-being.

...Honestly. Like there was ever even a choice.

“Thank you for the offer, Mr…?”

He crossed one arm over his chest and bowed in a manner typical for a butler. “Gasper Vladi. Charmed, I’m sure.”

“Asia Argento,” I returned, inclining my head. “Well, thank you for the offer, Mr Vladi – but if we can’t even accomplish this much on our own, then that would make us fairly useless Exorcists, wouldn’t it?”

The smile I pasted on my face became easier to hold after a big chunk of tension left Xenovia’s frame.

Gasper hummed thoughtfully. “Well, I suppose that answers that. In any case, should you need anything, I am at your disposal. Use me  _however_  you wish.” He offered a wink, though the shit-eating grin on his face made it clear to me that he wasn’t  _actually_ flirting with us.

Unfortunately, Xenovia was never great at social cues. Just like that, the tension was back and worse than ever as her grip on Excalibur Destruction’s hilt tightened.  _‘Oh, bugger.’_

My hand shot out from my sleeve and gripped hers, drawing her attention for a moment. No words – just a slight shake of my head and a reassuring grip.

The tension lessened. But slowly, and it was still simmering.

I turned to Rias. “I think, Miss Gremory, that it is about time for my companions and I to take our leave.”

Rias, who’d been shooting Gasper a dirty look, faced me again. “Very well. Though he could have phrased it better, Gasper’s statement stands. If you have need of us, you know where to find us.”

I nodded, offering a quick bow to the Heiress. Irina did likewise, though hers was shallower, and Xenovia barely inclined her head at all. They both left quickly, but I lingered behind a moment. Producing a pen and paper from my robe, I scribbled a set of numbers and a few lines of text before walking to Rias’ desk.

Holding the paper over the wood, I stilled the shaking of my hand through force of will. “...When you think he’s ready for it,” I said slowly, “please, give this to Isaiah.”

Rias’ eyes widened, and she reached for the paper with a hand that shook just as mine had. She gripped the edge as though it might dissolve at any moment, and during that brief pause I felt something press against the back of my hand.

I glanced down to see an almost two dimensional shadow-tendril stretching from where Rias’ shadow crossed mine. I very carefully did  _not_ look at Gasper, and slid the thin piece of paper that it bore into my sleeve.

“I...don’t know if it would be good or bad for him to see it…” I told her, “but I think that if anyone  _should_  see it, then it would be him. He deserves what I can give him.” I turned away, and even I could barely hear my own words as I walked from the room. “They all deserved what I could give them.”

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

**Gasper**

When the final flutter of Asia’s white cloak disappeared around the edge of the doorframe, I heaved a weary sigh and rubbed the bridge of my nose. I probably shouldn’t have teased so aggressively...though a small, sadistic part of me wanted to see if I could use innuendo and implication to drive Xenovia and her less-than-stellar social perception up a wall.

I vigorously stomped on that impulse. As fun as rampant irreverence was, even I knew there was a time and place for it. While the threat of a genocidal Cadre hung over our heads, I was certain it was neither.

Even as I berated myself for giving in to my baser instinct to sow discord, the technique I had lovingly termed the “Time-Out Room” dissipated from Kiba. He completed his rise from the chair in an instant, snarl still marring his otherwise handsome features, and cast about the room for the targets of his ire.

Ire that he turned on me the moment he found them missing, knowing damn well what I had done.

“VLADI!” spat the wroth Knight, hoisting me by the collar of my jacket and slamming me against the wall, “Why?!”

Rias opened her mouth to intervene, but I shook my head. I was the one who interfered. I made my bed – and now, I’d have to lie in it.

“We’ll settle this the usual way,” I replied calmly, even as a platform of shadow appeared under my feet and I wrapped my own hands around Kiba’s collar. As I lifted him just as he had done to me, a tendril extended from the platform and unlatched the window to our right. Then, with a swift motion, I hurled Kiba out the window before jumping out after him.

Kiba was rising from a three-point crouch as I jumped, a furrow in the dirt marking the length of his deceleration. By the time I landed he’d already pushed off into a run, the speed of a Knight leaving him a blur to even my sight.

Thankfully, for this first blow, my eyes weren’t needed – just my right fist, my magic flooding the arm behind it as I threw a punch.

From the very fist time I crossed fists with him, Kiba and I had always started our bouts the same way – with the exact same blow. And though once upon a time that blow had merely left us both blowing surreptitiously on our knuckles, these days...

Kiba’s fist met mine head on. Of the two of us, he was the more physical, and had the full momentum of his body behind him – but when it came to magic and a Devil’s natural energies, I was far more than his match.

Our fists crashed together, struggled against one another, then repelled explosively with a cacophonous  _boom_  as the expanding shockwave tore dirt from the ground at our feet.

Tradition thus satisfied, we each settled into a brawler’s stance.

Even as angry as he was, Kiba was loathe to speak in combat – so I decided to get the ball rolling myself. “Come on, you broody bitch!” I yelled, the savage glee I’d learned to feel from impending combat sounding clearly in my voice.

Instead of dignifying my admittedly mediocre taunt with a response, Kiba disappeared in a blur once more, reappearing at my side with a flurry of blows faster than I could hope to dodge...but  _not_  faster than I could hope to parry. A few good hits went through, leaving my side aching, but the movements of my arm diverted many of them into grazes or complete misses.

“A Knight you may be, but you’re as slow as ever.” I commented.

He wasn’t. He  _really_  wasn’t, but in our little matches my particularly aggravating approach to psychological warfare was about the most potent thing I had on tap. Rias only approved of our...uh…’touchy-feely’ type conversations for as long as Kiba never brandished a weapon and I never externalised my Magic. That left us with our fists, words, and the Demonic Energy coursing through our bodies.

And there was never any doubt as to which of those I could wield best.

During a normal spar Kiba would never be even slightly fazed by my taunts and jibes, especially the meagre fare I had to offer today, but right now he was so angry that he couldn’t even reach for his usual mask of politeness and his focus was suffering from it. So was his restraint, which I could feel in the aching of my ribs and outer arm, but he wasn’t so far gone that he’d conjure a Demonic Sword so that was fine.

Kiba and I kept exchanging blows, my arms tucked in and up high as I pushed myself around on my toes to mitigate the worst of the many strikes coming my way while I waited for opportunities to launch strikes of my own through the flurry. What parts of my focus  _weren’t_  on the fight could hear that the rest of the ORC had gathered at the edge of our sparring space.

“Buchou, shouldn’t we stop them?!” Issei asked, half-shouting as he watched us. “Kiba’s got a really serious look on his face! What if he hurts Gasper-sempai?”

As I shifted my head out of a haymaker’s path, I could hear Akeno’s ominous chuckle over the whistle of displaced air. My grazing blow to Kiba’s shoulder in return yielded little more than a sigh of flesh-on-cloth to complement Rias’ own fond exhalation.

“Frankly, Ise-kun, this is normal for those two,” she explained. “Yuuto may act composed and responsible almost all the time, but that’s because he has these spars to let out his stress and frustration.”

Kiba suddenly dropped into a sweep of my legs, catching me out and sending me tipping backwards. I went with it, feeling at least three blows pass through the air around my legs as I flipped backwards and raised a cross-guard for the jabs that followed. “I’ve never seen him this angry before,” Rias admitted, “but he and Gasper…”

Three jabs, a haymaker, then he was going to duck and go for an uppercut –  _opening!_

My fist slammed into Kiba’s cheek just as his diminished blow forcibly shut my jaw, sending us both staggering backwards.

Rias sighed. “Are like shonen manga rivals. Honestly…”

“That’s...that’s…” Issei trailed off for a moment, and I wondered if I’d lost the sound of his voice in the slight ringing of my ears. “ _So cool!”_  Oh, no, never mind. He was as obnoxiously loud as ever.

“I didn’t know that damn hand...that  _Kiba-sempai_  was so... _hot-blooded!”_  Issei sounded almost reverent. Funny; I didn’t think he could sound like that when tits weren’t involved.

Kiba and I both pulled ourselves upright. Slight bruises were beginning to show on both of us, in particular Kiba’s cheek and my hands. Probably my jaw too, if I had to guess. He was still angry, and I could see it, but he was struggling to get air with the way his trained breathing rhythm had broken under his rage and so I had a few moments. “You asked me ‘why’,” I commented calmly. As a Dhampir, I still needed to breathe – but not as much as normal people did, so my air supply wasn’t as compromised as Kiba’s. “Why I stopped you from doing more than standing up menacingly. Why I didn’t let you pick a fight with two Excalibur wielders. Why I denied you the first step towards your own justice.”

Kiba stared at me, teeth gritted and arms raised in a guard, obviously waiting for my reasoning.

“It’s because…”

The rules of the spar said ‘no externalising magic’. What that meant, in effect, was that I couldn’t use my Sacred Gear, Shadow Manipulation, Blood Manipulation or my spells. Technically, though, it meant I could still use magic  _internally._

_Imagine speed._

The wind on my face, flowing around me. The feeling of arms and legs pumping, blood running hot and lungs a furnace as the world flew by beneath me. The blurring of perception as the body outsped the mind.

I fed the image to my magic, pulling it tight below my skin, and with my next step I vanished in a burst of speed to rival Kiba’s own.

Only Koneko knew I’d been practicing with internalised spells; Rias and Akeno gasping in shock, as well as Issei’s excited yell, were music to my ears.

Seriously;  _why_  did everyone think that a Bishop’s specialization in Magic meant that they’d be a glass cannon? Devil Magic was limited only by the amount of energy you could channel and the uses you could imagine. As a Mutated Bishop I had  _plenty_  of magic, as a fairly accomplished Devil I had even more, and as both the holder of a Sacred Gear and a Dhampir I had a powerful disposition to the mystic arts.

It was really a no-brainer that with seven years of practice, I was already recognised for my power as a Bishop in the same way that Kiba was recognised for his speed as a Knight.

I came to a halt directly at Kiba’s side, nowhere near his guard area and already in motion anyway, as I continued. ”...your fight against them would have been USELESS!” With my final word, my right fist slammed across Kiba’s face in a backhand.

“USELESS!”

A right hook snapped his head back in the opposite direction.

“USELESS!”

A full tenth of my magic reserves poured into my left arm, a rough imagining of  _strength_  building on the natural reinforcement of my biology and Demonic Energy to form an uppercut which lifted Kiba more than twice his height off the ground when it slammed home.

Burning more Demonic Energy, I launched myself after him with a jump, flaring my wings out as I did so to bring myself to a hover and give myself something to pivot around.

_“USELESS!!”_

My final shout was punctuated by a spinning axe kick into Kiba’s midsection, smashing him into the dirt below.

“What would have been the point?!” I demanded, my wings furling back in as I began to descend. “What would you have accomplished?” I touched down, beginning to stride forward. “The complete  _waste_  of your life? Hurting us? Hurting  _me?!”_

Kiba was groaning from a dent in the ground formed by his crash-landing. When I was standing beside him, I reached down and hoisted him up by his lapels as I met his gaze. “I froze you, you  _damned_  idiot, because _I don’t want to lose another brother!”_

Despite still having breath in my lungs, the stern tone I’d tried to enforce on my voice cracked and choked with my words. Once, he had been a character, but after all these years Kiba was more than just another person to me – he  _was_  my brother, in every way that mattered. And just the thought of seeing him risk his life so utterly on the slight chance of destroying a sword that would just be re-made anyway…

Kiba looked at me with wide eyes as my grip on him failed, leaving him to sit back down in the dirt as I angrily dashed the tears from my cheeks.

There was complete silence for a few seconds. Then, Kiba’s head drooped a bit and the last of the tension left him. “...Sorry for troubling you so much, otouto,” he whispered.

I choked on my laugh. “Come on, you daft shit.” I pulled him up, slinging his arm over my shoulder before I started dragging him back towards our spectators.

Rias was shaking her head as we approached, but there was a slight glitter to her eyes. Akeno simply chuckled, one hand on a slightly blushing cheek (and _there_  was something that hadn’t become any less terrifying in seven years of knowing her). Koneko met Kiba’s eyes and simply said, “You got rekt, Kiba-sempai.” I wasn’t sure how she managed to communicate the Internet slang spelling verbally, but Koneko did it anyway.

I had trained her well.

Issei, on the other hand, had a shit eating-grin on his face as he looked at Kiba. “Kiba...I totally misjudged you.” He took a step forward, clapping a hand on Kiba’s shoulder. “I thought you were just a damn handsome, but you’re really a connoisseur!” He quieted down, leaning into Kiba’s ear. I could still hear him though. “I’m not really into S&M stuff myself, but Motohama would probably share some of his stash.”

The pervert seemed to be wiping a tear from his eye as he stepped back. “You’re really lucky, you know Kiba-sempai? You found a girl that’ll cry for you  _and_ kick your ass.”

Kiba and I looked at one another. In the exchange that took place, several decisions were made and several plots of vengeance were hatched…

But for the moment, we turned back to Issei and  _laughed_.

“Boyo, you’re so naive it’d be cute – if you weren’t such a degenerate, anyway.” I walked past Issei still chuckling, while beside me Kiba wondered under his breath if it was better to be hated or respected by such a terrible example of a human being as Issei Hyoudou. Rias and Akeno joined in on the laughter as they turned to follow us, while Koneko just shot Issei a slight, superior smirk as she jogged up beside Kiba and started poking him on the cheek.

The  _bruised_  cheek.

I really  _had_  taught her well.

“...What?” Issei demanded from behind us. “What’s so funny?” Each of us began laughing even harder, and when I glanced behind us Issei was grabbing his hair as he wailed to the sky. “Why are you all laughing at meeeee?!”

**But nobody answered.**


	4. Chapter Three: I Pity the Poor Immigrant

**Chapter Three: I Pity the Poor Immigrant**

**Asia**

“See now that I, even I, am He, and there is no God beside me; I kill and make alive; I wound and I heal; and there is none that can deliver out of My hand.”

The last of the green light faded out from around my hands as I lowered them from the ceiling they had been pressed against and I let out a breath. “Amen.”

I could already hear the kerfuffle and yelling starting above me; things like that tended to happen when a hospital found that almost everyone in their ICU, long-term care, maternity, ER and pediatric wards had spontaneously started healing. In the middle of all that, not even the sight of an irritatingly short blond walking out of the electronics maintenance room below the ER was enough to draw attention.

Just as well, honestly.

I walked past a great deal of hurrying medical staff on my way back to the hospital’s entrance, where I retrieved the note from my sleeve to peruse once more. There was a phone number written across the top and a few scribbled words below it.

_ Call or text me if you have a phone, please. If you don’t, you should get one, you technology crippled savage. ;P _

_ In all seriousness, there are... _ things _ to discuss. _

_ –Vladi _

A quick look around found the expected row of phones in the lobby, and after stepping over I lifted the handset from the cradle and punched in the number on the card. The phone began to ring, even as I looked over my shoulder to cast a look around the lobby.

A few people had come in and were waiting on chairs to get past reception. Of course, with most of the medical staff running around like headless chickens as they tried to figure out what had caused the spate of miraculous recoveries, they’d probably be there for quite some time…

Twilight Healing glinted on my fingers as I called up its peaceful warmth. In the well-lit lobby, so long as I controlled the output, the green light which suffused the area was only really visible in particularly shadowed areas as an odd kind of tint. It was still enough to greatly accelerate the rate of healing however, and by the time I walked out of the lobby the doctors would probably have little to no work left to do.

Well. In the lobby, anyway.

The phone  _ clicked _ as the person on the other end of the line picked up.  _ “Vladi’s Vampire Crematorium, you stake ‘em, we bake ‘em; how may I direct your call?” _

I stifled a chuckle. “Guillermo del Toro if you can manage it, though anyone else is good too so long as it’s not Shyamalan or Bay.”

There was a short silence as my words were processed, then Gasper replied,  _ “You cheeky little...Bah! Anyways, Argento-san! I’m glad you called. I was wondering if, sometime during your down-time, we could chat. I know this lovely little café that serves the best apple pie.” _

“Kaa-san! Kaa-san, it doesn’t hurt anymore!”

I looked over my shoulder again, seeing a young boy running around and yelling. A women bearing a distinct resemblance to him was sitting beside a hospital-issue wheelchair with her hands over her mouth.

I smiled to myself as I turned back to the phone cradle. “Well, Xenovia’s not expecting me back for a couple of hours yet.”

_ “Excellent! A moment, let me get the address…” _ The sound of rustling papers echoed in the background, then a loud thump. _ “...Fuck. Whatever, I’ll clean it up later. Anyways, the address is…” _ There was another pause.  _ “Aaaand it occurs to me that you’re probably not too familiar with Kuoh. You know where Kuoh General Hospital is?” _

“...better than I have in  _ years, _ boy, and I’ll not have you coddling me!”

“Please, Fujimoto-dono, you were unable to walk just hours ago!”

There was a loud  _ crash _ and I turned around to behold the sight of a man who must have been in his eighties drop-kicking a nurse. “Do I look like I can’t walk to you?! Today’s youth, I swear…”

I did my best not to whistle nonchalantly as the man walked steadily through the lobby, wearing a hospital gown with such pride that it may as well have been full plate armour. “Now to go and see what that son-in-law of mine has done with the family business. I’ll teach  _ him _ not to visit me for years on end…”

_ “Oh my Maō. You’ve been pulling a Panacea, haven’t you. I can hear them from here.” _

“Oh, it’s not like I  _ emptied _ the place,” I retorted, “I just... _ almost _ emptied it.” It still grated on me that there were some things Twilight Healing couldn’t deal with. Diseases, congenital illnesses, detached limbs that weren’t still available to be re-attached...I couldn’t  _ cure _ any of them. Not even the cancers brought about by radiation poisoning or smoking.

I  _ could _ get rid of most of the symptoms, though, in the case of basically anything but cancer, tumours and other ‘living’ illnesses. Anyone in the hospital whose illness had progressed past a stage where it could be dealt with could most likely receive effective treatment now, and for the terminal...well, I had bought them some more time at least.

I did wonder how many of the hospital’s coma patients would wake up as their brains re-ordered themselves, though. Depending on what  _ caused _ the condition the effect I could have on it tended to vary pretty wildly.

A sigh echoed across the line.  _ “If I’m being honest, I’d probably do the same in your position. If you have the means to help someone and don’t...what good are you?” _ The last words seemed more directed at himself than at me.  _ “Anyways! Since you clearly have some clue where the hospital is, I’ll meet you in the parking lot in about...four minutes? Sound good?” _

“Yup.” I nodded. “See you then.”

_ “Toodles.” _ With a  _ click _ , we both hung up near simultaneously.

As I walked out of the hospital, I overheard a doctor speaking with the nurse who was picking himself up off the floor. “...seen anything like it, Watanabe-sensei. It’s a miracle.”

I grinned and hummed the tune to ‘Crazy Noisy Bizarre Town’ as I entered the parking lot. It felt good to  _ do _ good, even if there were some things that were still beyond me.

...Like fixing people’s shit taste.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

**Gasper**

After hanging up, I swung by Rias’ room to let her know I was heading out for a bit, then jumped out of a hallway window and sank into the shadows of the building.

True to my word, I arrived at the hospital rapidly, and from my perch within the shadows I could see both the results of Asia’s work and Asia themselves.

While I  _ was _ tempted to pop out of Asia’s shadow, I restrained myself. Primarily it was because I’d noticed the lean muscle tone of the androgynous Exorcist’s arms in the moments where the sleeves of their robes rode up and I had no desire to undergo an accidental fisting of the torso, though I also didn’t want to risk alienating someone who might be the only link with my original world.

Deciding that discretion was the better part of not experiencing a chidori without the lightning to burn my nerves out, I rose from the shadows behind a tree and made my nonchalant way over to where Asia was standing. “‘ _ Didn’t clear it out’ _ , my foot!” I greeted, clapping a hand on Asia’s shoulder gently. “I’m impressed.”

The blond turned, a subdued smile in place. “Thanks.” Asia turned to look at the hospital again, in particular at the steady stream of patients who were leaving – some of them for the first time in years. “I’ve made a habit of doing things like this...there’s another two hospitals in Kuoh. I’ll get to them at some point.”

I nodded. “Of course, I’ll have to tell Rias that you’re doing this, but I know that she won’t have a problem with it. Hell, if she thought you’d take it, she’d probably  _ pay _ you!” As I spoke I began to walk, indicating with a gesture that they should follow me.

Asia did so without hesitation, their movements light and fluid. Even to my ears, their footfalls were quiet. “Well, at least that makes up for the lecture Sitri-san will undoubtedly want to give me the next time I see her,” Asia sighed. “That girl is entirely too fond of ‘order’.”

I laughed. “You’re not wrong there. Just makes it even more amusing when her sister comes around and flusters her; last time, her blush didn’t go away for almost a week!”

After several minutes, we reached our destination, the amusingly named  _ Café D’If _ . The owner was a huge fan of Dumas’ work and had decided to theme the building after the infamous prison depicted in  _ The Count of Monte Cristo _ . Somehow, the novelty outweighed the inherent creepiness of dining in a replica of a cavern prison.

Asia shot me a  _ look _ when we arrived, so I smiled innocently and held the door open for them, sweeping my arm in a grandiose fashion.

I got a raised eyebrow for my troubles, but Asia still stepped forward, casting their eyes around. Their gaze, I noticed, always lingered more on the people than the surroundings themselves – even when the surroundings were so very bizarre. “I don’t know what I expected from a vampire’s favoured café,” Asia mused, “but if I’d known this place existed I think it would have been something like this.”

I clicked my tongue in mock disapproval. “Stereotyping? Truly, you wound me. I come here because the food is good and the proprietor has excellent taste in literature. The atmosphere is simply icing on the cake.” 

I followed Asia into the restaurant, and when we passed the entryway I called out, “Maximilian, you old bastard! You retire and leave the shop to me, eh? You know I’m good for it!”

A shoe came careening out from behind the counter and struck me square between the eyes. I could’ve caught it or dodged it but, much like the collision of fists in my fight with Kiba, this was a ritual greeting I wouldn’t forgo for anything.

“You damn brat! I’ll never die as long as you keep trying to take my café!” A burly, weathered old man stomped from behind the counter and stood before me, towering above me with a height of nearly two meters. We glared at one another, the tension in the room palpable. I could feel Asia staring at us in mixed concern and bafflement.

That made their reaction when Maximilian and I grasped hands and burst out laughing all the more satisfying.

Recovering from a moment of open shock, Asia shook their head amusedly. “I probably should have expected something like that. Anyone who would host you in their café  _ would _ need a certain kind of disposition.”

Maximilian let out a booming laugh. “Ah, it seems the little brat has found himself someone who can understand him. Good for you, kid.”

Asia and I spoke almost in unison. What we said, however, differed considerably.

“We’re not like that, you damn geezer.”

“I hear the hospital has some openings, ojii-san; you might want to check in so they can look at your eyes if you’re seeing things that clearly aren’t there.”

Maximilian laughed again, blatantly ignoring both our statements. “Ah, to be young again. Here, I’ll show you lovebirds to a  _ private _ table.”

I sighed. Turning to Asia, I made sure my next words were loud enough for my baking mentor to hear. “I apologize for him; he’s getting old. That’s why I keep telling him to retire; he’s clearly going senile.”

Asia’s smile had quite a few teeth in it. “Well, if he’s going senile, maybe I should ask one of the Sisters back in Italy if they can recommend any good care homes? I’m sure they’d be happy to take in a friend of a friend, and the café would, of course, be in good hands.”

Maximilian froze midstep, then turned around and scrutinized Asia. I simply chuckled at the consternation on his face.

After a short while of staring at Asia while muttering to himself, Maximilian straightened, shook his head and motioned to the booth. “Sit there, you confusing brats. Albert will be out to take your orders shortly.”

The two of us slid into a booth opposite one another, Asia seeming interested in how the booth looked hewn of the false rock the café was internally coated with. I had to admit, to an onlooker it probably _ did _ look like we were on a date. I’d never been all that successful in trying to develop a more masculine appearance – no matter how I dressed or presented myself, I still came out decidedly feminine. Asia on the other hand, while ‘softer’ than most,  _ did _ appear fairly male.

The fact that Asia was still wearing their Vatican-issue white robes as compared to my jacket and conjured Astolfo t-shirt—both of which had been cleaned magically after the spar—kind of broke up the image though.

I knew the service here was always prompt, as Maximilian would suffer nothing less than excellence in his employees. “We’ll talk once our food’s here; the service is too fast for us to get anything done before it arrives.”

As though conjured by my words, the thin form of Albert Guindon rounded the corner and came to a stop before our ‘cavern’. “Ah, Master Vladi and guest; what may I get for you on this lovely evening?” His voice somehow managed to be cultured without a hint of pretentiousness; the first time I’d heard him speak, I’d been reminded of an old friend from back home...the lack of a faint Scottish accent rather ruined the comparison, however.

“I’ll have the  _ Blodplättar _ with a side of apple pie, topped with custard of course.” I replied immediately. The blood pancakes here would probably be delicious even were I not a Dhampir, but since I was, they were  _ divine _ .

“Very good, sir. And for you?” Albert turned to Asia, hands folded behind him. None of the servers ever needed to write down the orders either; Maximilian expected nothing less than excellence of his staff, and he was  _ damn _ good at instilling it.

Asia spent a few moments looking for a menu on the table. When they couldn’t find one in evidence, I received another raised eyebrow.

Before I could explain the... _ eccentric  _ policy Maximilian had instated, Albert did it for me. “Our establishment has no menu. You may order anything under the sun, and a few things above it, and should we fail to make it, you’ll receive three pastries free of charge.”

Asia blinked a couple of times, then smiled. “Well, I’ll have to come back with some ideas to test your mettle another time. For now though…” Their eyes unfocussed for a moment before snapping back to Albert. “A Swiss roll, with an aside of apple pie and custard, please.”

Albert nodded. “Very good. Your confectionary delights will be out shortly.” The thin, prim man inclined his head to each of us in turn, then strode away.

Asia looked as though they were about to speak, but I raised a forestalling hand. Precisely one-hundred and eighty seconds later, Albert returned with our dishes, a trail of aromatic steam mixed with a barely discernible energy still wafting through the air behind him as he approached.

After Albert deposited the food and left us be, I muttered, “If you’re wondering about the traces of energy coming off the food, Maximilian is supernatural and doesn’t even know it l. I don’t know how, but he’s using some kind of energy to make his cooking... _ better _ . It’s how he can cook something that should take the better part of an hour in less than three minutes just by adjusting the heat.” I rolled my eyes. “Damn geezer is a  _ savant _ , and I know I’ll never manage to match him in cooking at his worst. I’m honestly not sure he’s completely human.”

Asia hummed in interest. “Well, it’s to be expected. After all, this is just the kind of world where humanity would be capable of such diversification, isn’t it?”

Before I could say anything in response, they raised a hand. “Just a moment, Vladi-san; I’d rather take just one more step against eavesdroppers.”

I waved a hand lazily, indicating my approval.

The white sleeves of the robes were rolled up for a moment, revealing the crystalline rings resting on Asia’s middle fingers. A faint emerald glow surrounded them, even as eyes of that same colour lost focus once more and became half-lidded. Seconds passed, then the light rising form the rings began to harden, forming recognisable patterns. Two circles, Enochian writing sandwiched between them with the design of an Iona Cross printed in the centre.

“When He keeps quiet, who then can condemn? And when He hides His face, who then can behold Him? That is, in regard to both nation and man?” Glowing hands moved forward, resting for a moment on the table. In that moment, the circles above the rings each vanished only to reappear at the table’s centre and sink into the wood, darkening into a design like an odd stain. “Amen.”

Asia blinked a few times as their focus returned, then sighed with a certain degree of relief. “The Church normally uses that for confessionals; everything we say here should  _ remain _ here, save for what we carry with us ourselves,” they stated. “We can talk freely.”

I massaged my forehead; even though the prayer hadn’t been directed at me, proximity still caused me some mild discomfort. I pushed it to the side, however. We had more important things to talk about.

I cut off a piece of my  _ Blodplättar _ and consumed it quickly, then spoke, “So. I’ll just come out and ask: you’re a reincarnate that remembers a world without all... _ this _ , and one where there was a Light Novel series called Highschool DxD, yes?”

“Yes,” Asia returned simply, cutting off a section of their own swiss roll and taking a bite. There was a momentary pause before they seemed to almost melt, slumping lower in their seat. “Oh, that is  _ good.” _

“Isn’t it?” I replied with a grin. “Ah. I suppose I should  _ properly  _ introduce myself. Before I was reborn into this world, my name was Johan Lewis.”

In the quiet of the café, the clatter of Asia’s spoon dropping was almost deafening as they stared at me. “...Johan?”

I regarded them quizzically. “...Do you recognize my name? I was never terribly social, so…”

I didn’t get the chance to see anything else, since a deceptively heavy blond form launched itself over the table and grabbed me in a hug. “...Donne,” they said simply, “before, my name was Donne Gibbs.”

My jaw dropped open. “Donne?  _ Donne?! _ Is that you, you well-spoken Scottish bastard?!”

There was a sobbing laugh beside my ear, and when Asia spoke recognisably again it was with even  _ more _ recognisable accent. “You have no idea,” they declared, “how hard it is to explain your Scottish accent to an Italian Sister Superior at the age of two.”

A shaky chuckle erupted from within me. “About as difficult as explaining your fluent English to your Romanian Vampire jailers at the same age, I imagine.”

The grip around my neck suddenly tightened a fair bit, and I got the distinct impression that there was a great deal more force behind the body of Asia Argento than the slim frame would have me believe. “Oh...oh,  _ fucking _ dammit, I  _ knew _ I should have tried harder! Switzerland was bad enough, so I didn’t even  _ try _ for Romania, but... _ fuck!” _

I grabbed my reincarnated friend by the shoulders. “Donne...Donne! I know you well enough to know you’re beating yourself up about this, even though you  _ cannot _ be expected to take responsibility for righting all the wrongs in the world. I had to learn  _ that _ lesson when I failed to get Valerie out with me and almost got killed before I even escaped.”

I loosened my grip on his shoulders slightly. “I know you wanted  _ desperately _ to help; you were always the better of us. But you cannot blame yourself for being unable to go all over the world and rescue everyone before you even had hit second puberty!”

“...I almost managed Kiba.” Donne’s voice was slow, hesitant, and the accent that had apparently been held back by years of practice coloured the words as he spoke. “...I spent  _ so long _ trailing Galilei’s movements. I wasn’t exactly unknown, even then, so it was a bitch and half to do it but I  _ tried. _ And then, one day, I actually overheard him talking with a Bishop about a testing facility in Switzerland. Mont de l’Etoile, near the Italian border. Miles from anywhere but close enough to a road to use it.

“Well, like I said, I was still a kid. No one was gonna listen to me when it was my word against an Archbishop’s...so, I cheated.” Donne chuckled a bit, though the sound was wet. “Dulio’s always had a soft spot for me, the glorious bastard. He  _ knew _ what I was doing when I told him there was a new delicacy in Arolla, but he went with it anyway. He took me there and he didn’t catch me when I bolted.

“I still owe him for that.

“Getting to Etoile was bad enough, but I pulled it off in a couple of hours. Then I found the place; a bloody underground bunker in the mountain-side with a ratty shack for an entrance. Probably some leftover from one World War or another. There was no one guarding it, so I busted the door down and stormed in and...and…”

Donne’s voice trailed off. His grip tightened further. “...All those children,” he murmured, “just... _ gone. _ And some of them were still warm.”

I clamped my eyes shut as I pulled Donne close. I could feel the shard of the Celtic God of Evil’s soul within Forbidden Balor View raging against my self control,  _ begging _ to be unleashed upon  _ something _ . ‘ _ Valper Gallilei...that’s  _ two  _ of my brothers you’ve stolen something precious from. Your death will be a long and painful one. _ ’

The malice within me seemed to sate Balor’s bloodlust for the moment, but I knew I’d have to be especially brutal the next time I encountered a Stray if I wanted him to remain...amicable.

I exhaled, then looked down at the blond hair of head burrowing into me. “We’ll get him this time, and we’ll make him _pay_ for what he has done. You, me and Isaiah; we’ll... _he’ll fucking_ _suffer_.”

There was a pause of just a moment. Then, for a split-second, I felt a distinct  _ shudder _ \- as if some great shockwave had just passed by in a moment, disturbing  _ everything _ for barely long enough to notice.  **“Yes,”** Donne growled,  _ “he will.” _

_ ‘Holy fuck what the hell was that?!’ _ I pushed Donne back from me and looked at him with wide eyes, my shades having slid down my nose due to the wave of pressure.

I was just in time to catch a slight shift of Donne’s pupils – after they were settling back into their natural shape from something else - and a lightening of his irides from what looked to have been a darker shade of green.

“...What in the name of the Lucifer’s freshly shorn ass was  _ that?!” _ I demanded shakily.

Donne met my eyes as he carefully extricated himself from my side of the booth to re-take their seat, apparently choosing their words carefully. “...Something that isn’t ready yet,” he said finally, “and something that I can’t really do on command...but also something that should be enough for dealing with Galilei, if I really need it.”

I narrowed my eyes as my thoughts raced. Dozens of ideas were considered and discarded in the span of as many seconds; truly, all my practice holding the image of multiple spells in my mind was paying off in dividends beyond my initial expectations.

There were only a few things I could think of that might have such a profound effect when the user wasn’t fully proficient, and even fewer that a human could use. And since Donne had already demonstrated that he was in possession of Twilight Healing...I could think of two possibilities, both terrifying in different ways.

I wouldn’t press, however. I was far too happy to be reunited with Donne to bother. I knew that, when the time came, he’d pull through. I had faith in him.

Our extremely awkward and emotional embrace now done with, I tucked in to my pie with gusto.

Across from me, Donne did likewise, making rather impressive progress through his meal considering his stature. Not that I had any room to talk on that front. Still, it seemed that it was a startingly short amount of time from the beginning of the meal to the finish, at which point there was no more reason for being quiet. “...Kokabiel will be here soon, if he isn’t already.”

I hummed my agreement, then clenched a fist and tapped the table in restrained agitation. “We, Rias’s Peerage and Sona’s as well,  _ aren’t  _ ready for this. We managed to beat Riser without having to resort to Issei Ex Machina, but Kokabiel? We’d have be lucky to leave him lightly injured, and I hope you’ll forgive me if I don’t feel comfortable relying on the intervention of Vali  _ fucking _ Lucifer for our survival.”

I looked over at Donne. “I’d ask if you had a secret weapon, but I doubt the high-and-mighty Men in Hats bothered to send anything other than you three, Destruction, Mimic and Durandal.”

The blond drummed his fingers on the table. “Technically, the wielder of Blessing is meant to be ‘on call’ – but they’re the more traditional kind of Exorcist, and Blessing isn’t meant for direct combat. Getting them involved wouldn’t help at all so I don’t begrudge him staying in Germany.” He leaned back in his seat. “As far as secret weapons go...well, I’ve done my damndest, and I’d say that Xenovia is as strong as I could push her to be by now. I have a few tricks up my own sleeve, too, and at least one of them, maybe two, Kokabiel and Galilei couldn’t possibly know about. Irina’s a lot sharper than she would have been, and she gets along much better with Mimic besides.”

Donne let out a long sigh. “But, despite all that...I still don’t think we have enough.”

I tented my hands. “The biggest issue is that if I call in Lord Lucifer, or Lady Levia-tan for that matter, and Kokabiel splits, Gallilei likely goes to ground taking the Fragments with him. Never mind how livid they’d be if they showed up and I had nothing to prove that a Cadre was here. I doubt we can rely on Kokabiel being a brainless fight-junkie, but if I wait to contact one of them until Kokabiel reveals himself to us, it may well be too late.” I ran my hand through my hair in agitation. “Fuck, fuck, FUCK!”

Donne seemed to consider something, closing his eyes and resting a hand on the table. “...I might— _ might _ —be able to buy us enough time for reinforcements to arrive,” he said slowly, “but if I try, then there’s a very real risk that it either won’t work or will backfire in the worst way possible.”

The last piece clicked into place. “You mad bastard…” I breathed, “You don’t mean…”

“I can barely control it,” Donne said, “and to do it at all I have to relinquish a lot of control first – but while I’m like that, I think I might be able to keep even Kokabiel on the back foot for a little while.”

I clenched my fists and slammed my eyes shut, desire to keep my new family safe warring with concern about the reincarnate that I’d once considered a brother in all but blood. With a long sigh, I made my choice. “Very well. I will trust your judgment. I have faith in you, after all.” 

I snapped my eyes open and removed my shades, fixing Donne with my raptor gaze. “However, if you think for one red second that you’ll be out there alone, you’ve got another thing coming.” A vicious grin split my face. “You’re not the only one with a thing or two up their sleeve.” I sobered, then said quietly, “And if you  _ do _ fully lose control, Maō forbid, Forbidden Balor View  _ should _ let me contain you without having to hurt you or let anyone else get hurt.”

Donne smiled, the crescent seeming to bridge fondness and sadness. “I suppose we’ll just need to have faith, won’t we?”

“A Dhampir Devil with faith, eh? I’ve heard stranger things, but not many.” I shook my head. “Enough of this depressing but necessary talk. Let’s talk about something else important.”

Donne raised an eyebrow, obviously wondering what could possibly be more important than a life-or-death struggle with a Cadre. In return, I grinned a shit-eating grin. “Has Xenovia popped the question yet?”

I later had to pay for the hole Donne punched in the wall when he slammed his head backwards during his shock-induced choking fit.

_ Totally _ worth it.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

**Asia**

My return to the church on the hill was a fairly quiet one, most of my steps going unnoticed as I thought.

Johan Lewis...of all the people I could be reincarnated with, he was on a very short list I’d be happy to see. The odds of one of us being reincarnated were...actually impossible to know. But  _ both _ of us? In the  _ same world _ , at the  _ same time? _

Something was going on, and I didn’t like the idea that we were pawns on someone’s game board.

Well – more like Bishops, really.

I was still caught up in my reflections when I reached the church’s doors, walking through and closing the portal behind me with a  _ thud. _ Enochian characters flared in Light around the doorframe for a moment as it sealed, then died back down to mere carvings once more as I walked away.

The church’s interior was almost fit for service, now. Irina’s wards were a harmonious humming on the edge of my senses, while Xenovia’s handiwork in repairing the things I couldn’t handle with magic was amazingly subtle for her personality. That was what people never got about her - she was as unsubtle as her weapons, yes, but only in character. As was befitting of a swordswoman she paid great attention to detail and was always working to perfect her skills, taking up artistry of wood and stone as a way of training her pattern recognition and as a survival tool.

Like every challenge she had ever faced, she broke it down before her and lined her path with the remains.

I still kept the clumsy, half-formed clay figure with an uncanny resemblance of my face that she had made once upon a time. She had no idea I had it, but it was a place to draw strength from when I faltered.

Just like Xenovia herself.

The effects of severe alcohol poisoning, particularly on a nine-year-old, seem among the utmost heights of suffering from the perspective of the poisoned. I’d guessed at that  _ before _ I raided the Vatican’s supply of liquor, but it didn’t stop me from doing my level best to obliterate every memory and thought in the wake of my disastrous trip to Mont de l’Etoile.

I might well have drunk myself to death before anyone found me if it hadn’t been for Xenovia.

It was the first time I ever saw her cry. As I watched the absolute mess she became upon finding me surrounded by open bottles and liberally splashed with expensive alcohol, barely hearing the babbling that passed from her lips as she begged me not to go, I swore it would be the last.

She had kept me anchored then. Dragged me back from the very edge of the pit and chained me to her side so that if I ever fell again, she would go with me, one way or another.

And so I didn’t. I left the abyss behind and moved forward, living for the instant and the moment yet to come, rather than for the rocky trail behind me.

Xenovia Quarta saved my life when I didn’t even realise I wanted it to be saved. For that, I wasn’t ashamed to say, I loved her.

“You’re late.”

I stopped just as I was about to descend into the area beneath the church. Xenovia was kneeling before the cross at the rear of the church, Excalibur across her knees, eyes closed and facing away from me.

Like that would ever stop her noticing what happened in her domain. Her space, what the Japanese called the  _ wa _ , was nigh impeachable. A fortress where she walked.

The rock upon which the church was built. Or, at the very least,  _ my _ church.

“Sorry,” I apologised, taking off my robes and draping them over a pew as I walked over to where she knelt and settled myself into a cross-legged sitting position behind her, facing towards the doors. “I got distracted.”

“This mission is much too important for us to be distracted, Asia,” Xenovia commented, and I chuckled.

“Don’t worry, Xenovia. I’ve not forgotten it.”

There was silence for a few long seconds.

“...I don’t like this. Working with Devils...it goes against all we’ve been taught.”

I hummed. “All of it? Really?”

I thought I could  _ hear _ Xenovia’s face twisting into exasperated pleading. “Asia, the Bible’s command to love thy neighbour does  _ not _ extend to the infernal forces.”

“Well, if you listen to the physicists, aren’t we  _ all _ neighbours in a cosmic kind of way?” I asked lightly, leaning back against her. “Quantum Super-Positioning and all these other things they’re discovering...things like ‘species’ and ‘home dimensions’ are starting to become so very small in the full scale of things.”

A rustle of cloth – Xenovia bowing her head, the muscles in her back shifting. “...I want to hate them,” she whispered, “I want it so  _ badly _ , but…”

“I know,” I sighed, “I know, Xenovia.”

“It’s like you always said…”

I smiled, speaking with her.  _ “Ours is not to know the why, and ours is not to judge the what – ours is only to accept the who. For in the end, even Devils may cry.” _

I shifted around a bit, and once I was sat beside her rather than behind her Xenovia’s head collapsed into the crook of my shoulder. I wrapped one arm around her in turn as we sat in the silence of the church, humming a simple little tune.

_ Everything Stays. _ The only song I had ever thought to reach for when I first met the orphan with blue hair and so very much rage at the race that had stolen away her parents.

Now, twelve years later, I looked into a raptor’s eyes that held so much more than just hate, and I smiled…

“...Asia, you’ve been crying.”

...For all of a few seconds. “Wait, Xenovia-”

“It was that Devil, wasn’t it? The blonde one.” Still gripping Xenovia’s shoulders, I was lifted from the ground as she stood up. “Excuse me, Asia, I’m just going for a walk.”

“Dammit Xenovia, I’m fine! It was nothing!”

I managed to hold Excalibur Destruction down with a foot as Xenovia went to lift it, and for a moment I thought I had a chance.

_ “Saint Peter. Saint Basil. Saint Dennis. Holy Mother Mary. Please hear my voice.” _

“XENOVIA, DON’T RELEASE DURANDAL IN HERE!”

Sometimes, I really wondered what I saw in this woman.


	5. Chapter Four: In Search of Little Selzen

**Chapter Four: In Search of Little Selzen**

**Gasper**

_ Ting. Clink. Ting. Clink. _

I listened idly to the sounds of metal on crystal as I fiddled with the chain draped around my neck as a necklace. Or, more specifically, the crystalline phial that dangled from it.

_ “For your loyalty to my sister, as well as your contributions to her defeat of Riser Phenex, I offer you a boon. What say you?” _

Sirzechs’ offer had been generous, as had the boon he provided – but then I  _ had _ played a fairly large part in the Rating Game. It was to be expected that helping his precious sister slip her bonds and be free of that half-baked turkey’s unwelcome attentions would earn his gratitude, and the gratitude of a siscon was not to be underestimated. Especially when said siscon was one of the Maō.

“Eiiiii!”

A cute martial arts kiai followed immediately by a muffled, pained grunt snapped me from my reverie and I returned my attention to my fellow Peerage members. I had convinced Rias to move up our first group training session so we’d be more ready for Kokabiel (though of course I didn’t mention the Cadre, I had no way of proving my knowledge true), and it was going well.

Kiba darted to and fro, rarely staying in one place for more than a moment. The reason for this was obvious for any onlooker, as Akeno’s lightning bolts scorched the ground bare moments after Kiba moved.

Rias and I, by contrast, were still as statues; the only hint of movement on either of our parts was the corcusating corona of cackling crimson surrounding my King and the squirming strands of shadow sprouting here and there around me. And as for the others?

Koneko was doing her damnedest to beat Issei into the ground so he’d learn how to awaken his Scale Mail instinctively in times of stress.

…

What? I  _ certainly  _ didn’t have an ulterior motive when I chose this method of training, and it had  _ nothing _ to do with him mistaking me for a girl. The dark chuckle I let out while looking over at Issei frantically attempting to dodge Koneko’s literally earthshaking blows was  _ completely  _ unrelated to his suffering.

As we sat facing one another in the lotus position, an orb of deepest crimson detached itself from Rias’ freshly named Destruction Mantle and hurtled towards my face even as she commented, “You are enjoying this  _ far _ too much for it to be healthy, Gasper.”

In response to her attack, ten tenebrous tendrils lashed out at the sphere of starved entropy given form. Each one was summarily devoured, but each one nudged the attack slightly off course  _ and  _ robbed it of some momentum and power. By the time it reached me, it impacted the ground beside me with little more than a puff of displaced dirt.

In tandem, I replied to both her attack and statement, “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about, O’ King mine.” Even as I spoke, a spike of shadow surged from before me and struck with snake-like abruptness for her throat. A thin plane of blood red Destruction snapped into being in front of Rias, consuming both itself and the attack before shattering...but not the second spike that had been hidden in the wake of the first.

The abyssal blade snapped to stillness a centimeter in front of her clavicle.

A crimson eyebrow twitched.

With a demure smile, I admonished my King, “Learn to look  _ underneath _ the underneath, you must.  _ Hmm _ hmm.”

Rias chuckled as we both let our magic recede, our intent made manifest retreating into us until we next called for it. “Mixing your references a bit there, aren’t you?”

My only response was a smirk, which widened at the cries of pain coming from a certain pervert. The two of us turned to look at Koneko and Issei, finding that Koneko was standing over Issei as he lay groaning in the middle of a crater.

Koneko met my eyes with a barely noticeable twinkle in her own, and I nodded.

With a small huff of effort, she raised her leg in preparation for her next attack...and brought her heel down in an axe blow towards Issei’s crotch.

Issei screamed in horror, and his body was engulfed in light. There was a dull  _ thump _ and a hiss from Koneko, as her foot collided with the codpiece of Issei’s Scale Mail.

Apparently, after repeated beatings, the threat of Loli-induced blunt force castration was deemed a sufficient threat to trigger his Balance Breaker.

…

To be fair, that would probably be true of  _ any _ male Sacred Gear user.

I clapped my hands. “Alright! Good job, Koneko, Hyoudou-kun!” Issei whimpered at the beatific, merciless smile on my face. “Now we’ll see how long you can last. Girls don’t like one-pump chumps, after all.”

Unsurprisingly, this seemed to ignite a fervor in Issei. He raised his fists in an approximation of Koneko’s usual stance that was half-decent, surprisingly. 

_ ‘I suppose he  _ **_can_ ** _ learn about things other than boobs, if he managed to pick up on that.’ _

Koneko gave him a look that might’ve been grudging approval, if the observer slammed back enough high-proof spirits and squinted.

The two circled for a few moments, then Issei rushed forward in tandem with the shout of  **[BOOST!]** that echoed from his arm. 

Koneko caught said arm with perfect ease and flowed around him like air, performing a textbook-perfect armlock as she forced him to the ground. “...Too slow, Ise-chi.”

After Koneko let him up, they reset their stances. Ddraig called out a second time, further doubling Issei’s power. This time, it was Koneko who was the first to strike, and even as the petite Rook closed with her opponent Issei received another Boost.

It had been sixteen seconds already, and Issei still had his Balance Breaker active. On the other hand, he seemed to be limiting his Boosts to one every 5 seconds, rather than a continuous stream that would go until he couldn’t handle any more power.

A surprisingly smart choice, coming from Issei. I’d have to ask about that.

A few minutes and a few clashes later, Scale Mail dissipated and Issei took a knee. He’d stopped his periodic Boosting about a minute in, which was probably why he managed to keep going for another two minutes and change.

Never let it be said that I failed to give praise where praise was due. “Not bad, Hyoudou-kun. You managed three and a half minutes, and by the end of that period you were at…” I did some quick mental arithmetic. “Twelve Boosts, and you held ‘em for about two and a half minutes. Impressive progress, kiddo.”

Before Issei could reply, he was bowled over. Kiba, in his tiredness, hadn’t registered his kneeling comrade, and the duo were now tangled in a heap. As Knight and Pawn groaned in tandem, I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Not a second later, a bolt of lightning split the sky and slammed into them both. Twin shrieks of pain pierced the air as the lightning dissipated.

Akeno walked over, one hand on her cheek and a blissful expression on her face. “Oh  _ dear _ . Did little old me do  _ that _ much damage? I’m sorry Ise-kun, Kiba-kun. I was just so... _ pent up _ .” She shook a finger at Kiba admonishingly. “It’s rude to tease a woman and refuse to give her release.”

Issei turned red at the innuendo, while Kiba merely gave a polite—if pained—smile.

Koneko, however, stared at Akeno disapprovingly.

Rias, a strange expression on her face, called the training to a halt, and we filed inside for showers and an after-workout snack. One boon of Devil magic was that it was remarkably easy to stay fit as long as you trained semi-regularly, so we could eat anything we wanted. 

After we’d undergone our various hygiene rituals, we met back up in the club room. I was the second one to arrive as Rias had, predictably, showered there. As designated cook, I set about putting the snack plates together.

To the surprise of absolutely nobody, Koneko’s was the largest by several orders of magnitude.

My own was the next largest, followed by Kiba’s. Akeno, Rias and Issei would divide the remaining snacks among themselves.

As the other members of the Peerage filed into the room, I passed out the plates of food, and for a while, the room was silent but for the sounds of chewing and clattering cutlery.

Eventually, though, Issei sat his fork down and looked over at me.

“Gasper-chan, thanks again for helping me figure out Balance Breaker; Ddraig says that as long as I can remember that feeling I had, I’ll be able to call it out.” He winced. “But didja have to tell her to do  _ that?” _

I gave a toothy smile as I set down my half-eaten eclair. “I have  _ no _ clue what you’re talking about, Hyoudou-kun. That training was  _ perfectly _ normal.”

Judging by the look on his face, had Issei been in possession of an Xbox controller, he’d be mashing X to doubt.

I merely smiled and held out my fist to Koneko, who knocked knuckles with me.

_ Truly, this was my family. _

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

**Asia**

“...of yourself, selling false images of the Lord’s servants!”

I sighed to myself as I chewed on some onigiri, leaning against a shop-front in the shade of its awning. Xenovia was doing the same beside me as we watched Irina lecture the owner of an ‘antique art’ store which was either a money laundering outfit or the owner’s way of letting their kid be ‘a successful artist’. She’d been going for five minutes strong by this point, which just went to show that she had far too much energy for someone who had been as relentlessly beaten by the mid-day sun as we had been.

“I swear the sun in Italy isn’t this bad,” I muttered to myself between bites.

Xenovia turned a bland look on me. “It only seems that way because you refuse to wear your official robes whenever you can get away with having them off.”

I glared at her in return. “Hey, I  _ do _ wear them!” I wore them tied around my neck so they formed a cape, admittedly, but that  _ was _ technically wearing them!

The look Xenovia gave me was oddly pitying, and I buried the sting of it beneath another mouthful of Japanese snack-food. It wasn’t my fault I couldn’t handle high temperatures well.

“I swear, there didn’t use to be people like that in Kuoh…” Irina muttered as she stalked over to us, swiping the onigiri I held out to her and tearing a bite off it like a wild dog.

_ ‘On the one hand, I’m glad I managed to teach Irina not to fall for obvious scams,’ _ I considered,  _ ‘but on the other hand, I wish I’d spent more time teaching her to tone down the religious fervor.’ _

There was a joke to be made about the Protestant member of our trio being the violent one. Hell if  _ I _ was going to make it, though.

“Since our target wasn’t there,” Xenovia began, and I sighed.

“Xenovia, please don’t call everyone we go looking for a ‘target’. We just wanted to talk to the guy.”

Raptor eyes blinked at me. “Since our target wasn’t there,” Xenovia began again, and I threw up my (now empty) hands in disgust. “We have officially run out of people who even passingly knew the Vatican-related citizens in town.”

“Whoever killed them was really thorough in their work…” Irina said, looking thoughtful.

I didn’t like my robes very much—or at least wearing them ‘properly’—but I was thankful for the way they hid my clenched fist. Surely, if I’d gone looking for it, there would have been at least  _ one _ opportunity…?

“Asia.”

I looked up at Xenovia, who had walked out from under the awning. Sometimes, sunlight on black hair makes it seem blue. On Xenovia’s, it creates a shine like cobalt. “We’re moving out.”

“Right,” I muttered, wadding up the onigiri wrappings and tossing them into a bin across the street as I headed off after my teammates.

I had another failure to atone for, and we’d only examined the parts of the city where those killed for their church connections (or their connections to those whose social connections  _ had _ church connections) had died. There was a lot more ground to cover.

God, but this would be so much easier if I could use  _ it _ properly – but…

**—hatekillpreyhuntmurderdevourdiediediejustdiehateyouhateyoualljustdiealreadyhunthuntdevour** **_kill—_ **

I shook my head and took a deep breath, closing and opening my fist as I walked and feeling the tendons creak.

Yeah.  _ That _ wasn’t happening any time soon.

So, under the Spring sun, a Catholic, a Protestant and a blond went looking for a priest.

-x-x-x-

I had no idea who was in charge of constructing the underground complex beneath the church, but I definitely owed them a favour if I ever met them.

There was a bath facility. A bloody great underground pool with Greco-Roman decoration, the water in which was perpetually warm and clean, apparently with an ancillary ability of cleaning other things that entered the bath. I had no idea how, and frankly, I didn’t particularly care if it was fuelled by the sacrifice of unborn souls so long as I could have a long soak at the end of the day.

...Okay, I  _ might _ care a bit if there was any soul-sacrificing going on. I’d probably be fine with small animals though.

Getting  _ out _ of the bath was always a task that drew heavily on my own willpower, but I still went to towel off after a half hour or so. Once I was dry, I raised my hands over my neatly-folded pile of clothes, closed my eyes for a moment and built the spell in my mind as the words poured from my lips. “Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean; wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.”

As I opened my eyes, feeling the rush of warmth in my hands and watching my spell-circle spin around as it descended through my pile of clothes and brought them back to the height of cleanliness, I snorted to myself.

‘Whiter than snow’. I hadn’t been that way for a  _ long _ time.

I was just finishing lacing up my boots, having donned my underwear, jeans and black t-shirt already, when Xenovia walked in. I picked up the pace of my knot-tying in response, making it out the door to the baths before she’d done more than remove her robes.

“I swear, she comes in earlier each time…” I muttered to myself as I walked through the underground complex, nodding to Irina as I passed her in the chapel. I’d be taking over sentry duty now, so she was clear to go and join Xenovia.

I thought I heard her mutter something as she turned to walk away, but I didn’t catch more than ‘earlier’ and ‘drastic’ before she disappeared.

Oh well. If it was important, Xenovia and I would hear about it soon enough. It was  _ Irina, _ after all.

I wandered around the chapel for a few minutes, running my fingers along the walls, pews and altar, squinting at the windows in their magically-repaired frames to make sure we hadn’t missed any fragilities in the glass.

Then, when that was done, I bit the bullet and headed outside.

The doors sealed behind me with a burst of Light as usual, which should be more than enough for keeping anything out – or at least alerting the others if the wards were breached. Sentry duty was mostly paranoia when we had a defensible position like this, but as any experienced Exorcist knew, paranoia was just a well-developed survival instinct.

Tonight, however, I needed to cultivate a  _ different _ kind of instinct.

I walked out into the woods humming ‘The Hanging Tree’ to myself, not particularly bothered about the strange shadows cast by canopy and trunks as pale moonlight lit the way. Of the fears I still possessed, the dark wasn’t among them.

Besides – the odds were that, of all the dark and dangerous things the woods may hold,  _ I _ was far and away the worst. Or so I told myself.

I came to a stop while the church was still visible, closing my eyes and steadying my breathing. The forest was...not quite a presence, but it registered on my senses. Its life, its history, its most basic form of consciousness. This was an old forest, and like any old forest it had a mind of its own.

Not  _ much _ of a mind, but a mind nonetheless – and in the end that was what mattered.

So I turned around, placed my back to a trunk and sat down, leaning my head against the bark and closing my eyes.

And with my next breath, I took  _ in  _ the forest.

**—huntpreyescapepredatorhuntpreyescapepredatorgrowsunlightleechwaterpoisoninsectsdevourleavesdevourinsectsdevourbirdshuntpreybloodmeatkilldevourdevour** **_devour—_ **

I gasped out my lungs’ contents, faintly hoping I was imagining the tendrils of curling black that came out with it, illuminated by the emerald glow emanating from my eyes. I traced their progress as they vanished among the other shadows of the forest while I waited for my heartbeat to slow once more, the regular action of my breathing drawing my mind back to the centre as it always did.

An old forest. An old mind. And a whole lot of old blood.

Of course. The Devils  _ had _ chosen to claim this land for a reason, after all.

“Nothing can ever be easy…” I sighed as I adjusted my sitting position, looking up at the moon.

“Ain’t that the truth, brother,” a now-familiar voice echoed from the shadows beside me as Gasper – no,  _ Johan _ , walked out from behind a tree. He regarded me over the top of his ever-present shades and said mildly, “You look like shit, Donne.”

I quirked a grin. “Well that’s a fine how-do-you-do and no mistake, brother.” I sniffed imperiously. “And it’s your damn fault anyway.”

“Oh, this ought to be good.” The Dhampir gestured for me to elaborate.

“Xenovia noticed I’d been crying when I got back to the church last night,” I told him, “and like she always does she got all worked up and went to try and kick-start a new crusade.”

Johan’s shoulders began to shake as he let out a panicked giggle. He quickly devolved into frankly concerning cackling, one palm grasping his forehead as he threw his head back like he was attempting to prevent his manic convulsions launching his brain out of his skull.

Then the laughter cut out in the space of a second, and Johan looked at me with dead eyes. “I’m so fucking dead. I’m leaving my candy to Koneko, but you can have my cookbooks.”

I laughed as I re-settled myself in a more comfortable position. “It’ll be fine as long as you don’t get on Xenovia’s radar again for the near future. I wore her out before she could leave the church, so for the moment she’s willing to bide her time and store the grudge.” Idly, I reached out and rubbed my hip, remembering a particularly nasty fall after having my legs swept. “I’m really glad I have Twilight Healing, though. All the walking we had to do today would have been a nightmare otherwise.”

Johan snorted. “If I didn’t know you as well as I do, Donne, I’d think you were talking about something completely different. But as you once told me, ‘matters of the bedroom should remain there’.” 

I could feel the insidious blush spreading up from my neck and across my cheeks as I caught my own double-entendre. Gah, why couldn’t I have been born with some kind of power that would let me control my facial expressions? Some spell that could stop me from blushing would just be the most useful thing  _ ever _ sometimes.

“I doubt that sentiment has changed all that much while living in the Vatican, of all places.”

I coughed into my hand, turning away from my friend to the church. The church, where Xenovia was. The church, where Xenovia was currently taking a ba–

I almost cracked the tree I was sitting against in half when I slammed my head backwards, riding out the pain as had become second nature but wincing as I felt the forest recede just the tiniest bit. “Dammit…”

Close my eyes. In, out. In, out. Then reach to the forest and  _ draw in— _

**—growsunlightleechwaterpoisoninsectsdevour—**

—before you  _ push out _ , loop it back around into the tree and let it  _ grow. _

It only took a few seconds for the tree to return to its prior health, if not a better state, but afterwards I was left panting as I re-centred myself.

“...You really have Senjutsu. I didn’t doubt you, but...damn. Seeing and feeling it is something else.” Johan crossed his arms and leaned against a tree. “I guess you reached it through Touki? Considering how you don’t have any weapons on you…”

“You remembered Touki, huh?” I asked, forming a wry grin and not waiting for an answer to continue, “Yeah, that was how it started. I managed to start using Touki...two years ago, now?” I whistled. “Feels like longer. But it took me more than a decade of training to raise my  _ ki _ to a level where I could do something with it. At least an hour of training every day I could possibly manage it since the first day I realised I couldn’t use Light weapons.” 

“Of course I remembered Touki,” Johan replied, “I maintain that Sairaorg should’ve been the protagonist, and I’m sure you remembered how I’d wax poetic about Kuroka.” Johan then fixed me with a stare. “No Light weapons, huh? I can wager a guess why, but that’s kinda irrelevant, isn’t it?”

I smiled, and even I didn’t think it was a happy expression as I slowly began to answer the implied question. “My decision to become an Exorcist was opposed...almost universally, in the Vatican,” I recounted, “and even now there are people who think I should be waiting in a medical centre somewhere to heal incoming injured or out doing missionary duty in some far-flung country.” I raised a hand in front of myself. “And from the first time I stood in basic weapons class and completely failed to activate a Light Sword, they’ve always called me the same thing.

“The Talentless Exorcist.”

I sighed as I leaned back against the tree more fully. “I can’t use Light even slightly. An Excalibur is nothing but metal in my hand; they don’t even reject me. My prayers never reach God’s system. My bible readings are just incantations for my spells because there’s nothing behind them where there should be Light.

“If not for having been left at a Vatican orphanage and gifted with Twilight Healing, I could  _ never _ have been an Exorcist.” My raised hand clenched into a fist. “But I worked. Every day for so very long, I worked  _ so much _ . When I sprained something or broke something or started bleeding, I would use Twilight Healing and get back to work until I collapsed. Then I’d speed my muscles’ recovery so I could train again after I took a break without getting diminishing returns.”

I brought my fist across my chest, breathing in and reaching  _ inward– _

And when I slammed my fist outward in a backhand, the luminescent emerald aura that blazed around it lit the forest. Of course, that wasn’t quite as impressive as the massive rush of wind that was pressed out of my fist’s path, rustling branches and tearing off leaves in a cone to my side.

I watched the trees shake in irritation even as I lowered my hand again, Touki—my life energy, my vitality, arm and armour of the heart’s blood—fading away and leaving the moonlight once again. “I chose the most difficult path I had available for no reason but pride,” I admitted, “but I  _ showed _ them.”

I turned back to Johan and met his gaze through the sunglasses. “I’m utterly talentless as an Exorcist. But I’m still good enough to stand alongside any Holy Sword wielder, and  _ that _ is what matters.”

Johan tilted his shades down so I could see his raised brows. “‘Utterly talentless’ he says, after showing off Touki and Senjutsu. If the Church truly believes that you aren’t a true Exorcist because you can’t use Light, then…” He let out a sigh. “I pity them.” He fixed me with a feral grin, made all the more alarming by his fangs. “That said, you have  _ got  _ to teach me that.”

Johan then winced. “Though that  _ might  _ be an issue, because of  _ where _ on the ‘battle lines’ we both lie.” He shook his head. “Feh. Rias wouldn’t make me fight you, and I wouldn’t even if all four Maō ordered me to.”

“And the Vatican owes me at least five consecutive months of vacation days at this point, during which they don’t get to dictate what I can and can’t do.” I grinned in return. Then, after a moment, I became sombre again. “...Though, I suppose we’ll both have to be alive at the end of this shitshow to make good on that, won’t we?”

“We  _ will _ survive this, even if I have to beg Azazel and Michael to intervene  _ along _ with the Maō.” Johan’s face was a mask of grim determination, though it quickly reshaped itself into a mischievous smile. “And like I said, I’ve got an ace up my sleeve as well...or rather, under my shirt.”

He pulled a chain up from around his neck and waved the crimson crystal at me. “Care to guess?”

“Well, fairly good odds it’s blood,” I said after a moment’s thought, “but I take it the ‘who’ is the important bit?”

“As smart as ever, Donne-chan,” replied Johan in a sing-song voice.

“So the question then becomes: whose blood did you get ahold of that would put such a shit-eating grin on your face?” I continued, pulling one of my knees to my chest and draping an arm across it to rest my chin on. I stared at Johan in that pose for a long few moments, focussing on his eyes. “...It’s not Issei.”

Johan snorted. “Hell no. Blood of a dragon or not, there’s no way in hell I’m taking any part of him into my body. Any  _ other _ guesses?”

I tapped the fingers of my free hand against a root, thinking it through. “...Someone you’ve have been in contact with and fought against…” Johan’s grin widened slightly, and my train of thought splintered. “...No. Not necessarily  _ fought _ .”

My fingers stopped tapping. “There’s only a few people with blood powerful enough to matter that you could have run into by now, even in Rias’ social circles. And there’s none that would just hand over some of their own blood to a  _ Dhampir _ ...unless they felt they owed something.”

I grinned. “So tell me – how badly did you have to beat Riser’s ass to get one of Rias’ family to pay you in blood money?”

Johan let out a cackle that wouldn’t have been out of place coming from a witch. “I used my shadows to literally baste the fucker with Holy Water.”

I laughed in open amusement, raising an open palm into the air wordlessly. Johan slapped it barely a moment later. “Glad to hear it,” I told him, “I think I remember that he pulled his head out of his ass at some point, but Big-J Almighty I might not have minded being kidnapped by Fallen if I got the chance to punt his family jewels into his big mouth.”

Johan’s cackles subsided into chuckles. “I can’t blame you for that; he was as much of a douche-nozzle in person as he was on-screen.”

Johan shook his head. “But enough about that undercooked turkey; you said ‘one of Rias’ family’ gave me blood. Correct, but that doesn’t  _ quite _ describe the significance of the gift.”

I nodded. “So, it  _ was _ him then. I wasn’t quite sure if he’d manage to sneak that past everyone else, but more power to him for it.”

Johan nodded. “The man  _ can _ be subtle when the situation calls for it. He’d have to have  _ some _ discretion to be a Maō, after all.”

I shrugged. “Fair enough.” I stared at the glinting red phial for a few moments, then sighed and leaned back against the tree once more. “...Just how much of a trump card are we talking here?”

Johan slipped it beneath his shirt. “Well, if I recall correctly, Issei’s blood was enough to trigger Balance Breaker in the original timeline. So...at the  _ bare _ minimum, I’ll be able to use that. Beyond that, I’m sure there’ll be a significant boost in my power. Whether whatever that is will be enough to hold off Kokabiel is anyone’s guess.” Johan spread his arms helplessly. “It’s a fair bit better than nothing, so I’ll take it.”

I nodded. There was really only so much we could do to prepare for a fight so very,  _ very _ far out of our leagues. Even such a complete wildcard as an unknown Balance Breaker would be welcome if the alternative was nothing.

The mood felt...dark, then. Johan had lifted it enough, I decided; I might as well pull my own weight. Besides, I owed him back for his teasing. “So, you’re juicing up right before the big day, huh?” I asked, pasting on a grin. “Never took you for a compensator, Johan.”

Johan’s eyes gleamed. “Hah! Well, if I had my way, my choice of partners wouldn’t be a two-thousand-year-old genocidal Fallen Angel, but beggars can’t be choosers. It’s only natural that I’d need an edge, as outside my preferences as he is.”

“Well, if you’re  _ that _ worried about your performance, go on ahead,” I said, waving a hand daintily off to the side like I was shooing a particularly obstinate mote of dust. “The rest of us  _ natural _ workers will be right there to show you what’s what.” My grin widened. “Though of course, Balance Breaker is hardly natural, is it?”

Johan crossed his arms, his grin matching my own. “Natural or artificial, it’s what you do with it and how skillfully you use it that counts. And I’ll do my damnedest to leave Kokabiel exhausted and spent after I’m done.”

I nodded. “Same here.” I sighed, hanging my head. “Though honestly, I’m not sure how much good my little bag of tricks will do me. There’s only one or two tools in there that might stand a chance, and...well.” I shrugged. “Neither of them’s my favourite thing in the world to use.”

Johan nodded seriously. “Well, sometimes you’ve got to think of your partner before yourself. Even if it’s something you don’t like, if it works for them, sometimes it’s worth it.”

“Wise words, my friend,” I replied, rising to my feet and clapping a hand on Johan’s shoulder. “I suppose I’d better keep them in mind moving forward.”

“Indeed, indeed,” Johan replied, “after all, you never know what kinds of stuff Xenovia will want you to do.” His grin widened further.

I scowled, dope-slapping my friend with about as much force as I might use in a particularly irritated  _ flick. _ So, roughly the equivalent of being smacked with a heavy pillow. “Do you have to keep up with that? We  _ both _ know it wouldn’t work.”

Johan waved a hand dismissively. “Pish-tish. That’s defeatist talk. Even if you don’t believe in the potential for a relationship, I do. Donne, you must believe in the shipper who believes in you.”

I let out a frustrated sigh, rubbing a hand back and forth through my hair. I’d raised this argument so many times over the years that I’d run out patience with  _ myself _ over it. Anybody else never had a chance. “No, Johan, it just – look, she wouldn’t – I can’t—”

I bit down a keening shriek. “Look, the truth is...”

-x-x-x-

“... _ I already knew, you daft bastard. My point stands.” _

-x-x-x-

I lowered my face into my palms, sighing as I leaned back against my tree with a  _ thud _ but remained standing. “Johan...I appreciate the faith, I always have, but...you can  _ see _ the problem can’t you, with those vaunted eyes of yours? You  _ do _ remember why Xenovia even stayed?”

Johan turned to me and planted his fists against his hips. “First of all, my eyes don’t  _ need _ to see fine in the darkness to see your point. However, you seem to be forgetting we live in a  _ literally  _ magical world. Shit like this?” He gestured vaguely at me. “ _ That’s _ solvable. It’s whether you two have chemistry that matters.” He scratched his cheek. “I know the quality of my advice is dubious, considering the fact that I’m oh-for-two at dying a virgin, but I think my point is still valid.”

He clapped me on the shoulder. “Just make me godfather alongside Dulio, eh?”

The dope-slap this time was closer to being walloped with a brick. “Of course, you realise all of this talk means precisely diddly squat if, as I expect, she just doesn’t feel the same way?”

Johan nodded sagely. “A fair point. My counter-argument: this world is of a...certain persuasion when it comes to romance and tropes. You’ve been around one another for what...more than ten years, I’d wager?”

“Twelve years,” I muttered.

Johan nodded. “And in that time, you’ve been fairly close; having one another’s back, compensating for each other's flaws, I assume?”

A veritable documentary flashed behind my eyes. “...There might have been one or two instances of things to that effect, yes.”

Johan eyed me with a gaze that  _ begged _ me to not treat him like a mushroom. “...Sure. Anyways, third and final question: Has her behavior changed in any way, especially when it comes to things like physical contact, bathing, eating together, or you being around strangers?”

I caught myself before I could look back at the church. Just barely, but I did. My answer was probably written all over my face anyway though. “...Maybe a bit.”

Johan rolled his eyes. “I know what downplaying something sounds like, dear.” He shrugged, then continued. “In any case, in  _ our  _ world those are pretty solid indicators of a desire to at least  _ try  _ something more. Here? In the world that practically  _ conspires _ to cause panty-shots and lewd clothing damage?” He didn’t finish his statement, but the look he gave me told me more than enough.

“Speaking from experience?” I asked, partly out of curiosity and party out of a wish to change the subject.

Johan shuddered. “Fucking Akeno and her fucking King’s Game orders. I thought I was done being forced into skirts when I escaped Romania.  _ Boy _ was I wrong.”

I thought about laughing for a moment. Then I remembered the ‘combat uniforms’ that the Vatican had issued before I burned them and asked Griselda for something with  _ actual armour value. _

...Perhaps I had no Light Element because all the divinity involved with me was the blessing of ignorance regarding the way this world worked?

...Actually, no. I was probably just inured because I wasn’t anywhere near the main character.

Except, now I was.

... _ fuuuuuuuck. _

“I’d really kind of hoped that wasn’t as bad as it seemed from the other side,” I sighed.

Johan’s sigh matched my own. “You and me both. Why do you think I spend so much time as a genderless, two-dimensional shadow? It’s not because I’m an edgelord, I’ll tell you that much.” He tapped the side of his head in a familiar fashion. “They can’t strip you if you don’t have clothes or a body.”

“I’ll have to remember that one,” I mused, chuckling.

Johan shook a finger at me. “Don’t you think for a moment that you’ve distracted me; I’m a shipper. We are undying, unending, unrelenting. We are legion, and we cannot be sto—” I rolled my eyes and dope-slapped him again, this time with the force of a pillowcase full of bricks, because if I was good at anything it was putting new spins on old tricks.

Johan looked at me with both amusement and a small wince. “Maō below, you really are a little Tsunade, aren’t you?” 

He rubbed the back of his head. “Stupid antics aside, I really do think you should at least talk it over with her. Even if the worst case scenario happens and she turns you down, it’ll be better for you in the long run. But I don’t need to tell  _ you _ that.” He furrowed his brow. “Ah...that last bit might’ve been a bit over the line. I apologize.”

I managed a small smile. “Don’t. She’s worlds away and seventeen years in the past, Johan. If I spent all these years asking myself if she’d have picked me in the end…” I shook my head. “Well. It doesn’t matter now, does it?”

I turned towards the church, almost imagining I could feel piercing yellow eyes meeting my own from the window.

Johan nodded soberly, then seemed to draw himself up. “Bah! Carpe Diem, or whatever. I’m sure you’ll be telling me the same thing at some point, if I can find someone.” He shivered. “Dating Rias, Akeno or Koneko would be too much like dating one of my old nieces, age differences be damned.  _ Fuuuuuuck _ that noise. I’m not into that shit.”

“Good to know you haven’t changed  _ too _ much in the past seventeen years.” I smiled, then looked up at the moon, which was almost directly overhead. “I’d best get back inside. If Xenovia comes looking for me and finds you here…”

“She’ll undoubtedly challenge me for your hand, before lopping my head off with Roland’s sword,” replied Johan with a grin that didn’t  _ quite  _ mask his nervousness at the prospect of seeing Xenovia.

I shook my head wryly. “Sorry Johan, but...there’s really no contest there.”

Johan grabbed his chest as though mortally struck, and began a dramatic monologue. “You  _ wound _ me, good sir! As though I would pursue your hand while you have eyes for another! What do you take me for, some sort of  _ netorare _ -liking savage?!” He finished his performance by staggering about and falling to one knee.

“Of course not!” I laughed, shaking my head and clasping my hands behind my back as I walked back towards the church. “If I did, I’d have to kill you!”

Johan rose with his own laughter. “Bah! If I did, I’d kill  _ myself!” _ With that closing statement, Johan called out a farewell. “Good luck and Godspeed!” A hiss of pain followed his words, certainly from using His name.

“May the Devil drive you home!” I called back, a few steps before the edge of the treeline.

When I turned to look back over my shoulder, Johan was gone.

I turned slowly back to the church, stepping forward deliberately and resting my hand on the wood of the door. “...Carpe diem, huh?” I muttered aloud.

I pushed the door open.

“Asia,” Xenovia greeted me, “is the perimeter secure?”

“Yup.” I nodded, stepping inside. “No signs of intelligent life anywhere.”

_...Maybe Johan had a point. But until this mess was over with… _

“Then come in and close the door,” Xenovia commanded, turning to head underground. “Irina is making curry tonight.”

“Right!”

_...I didn’t want to risk what I had just yet. _

The door shut behind me with a soft  _ thump. _

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

**Gasper**

I looked up at the moon as I walked back from the church, electing to enjoy the cool caress of the night air instead of taking the quick way back. This had the helpful side effect of giving me a bit of time to think about the discussion I’d had with Donne.

…

Somehow, I knew that the cheeky fuck would rationalize waiting due to the mess we were about to be flung into ass-first, rather than going for broke so that he’d be able to go into battle with no regrets. Then again, I’d meddled enough in that aspect of his life... _ for now _ .

I stopped at a 24 hour convenience store and bought some onigiri, then continued back towards the school, intent on knocking out a few online contracts before the sun rose and I set. Even in my past life, I’d been pretty nocturnal, but now that I was a Devil  _ and  _ a Dhampir? Well. The past few days had been anomalous; I usually rose at sunset and went to bed before sunrise.

As I munched my snack, the lyrics to  _ ‘Whips and Things’ _ played from my pocketed phone. Swallowing the mouthful of rice and steamed pork, I answered, “Vladi’s Crematorium, you ghost ‘em, we’ll roast ‘em.”

A tinkling laugh came across the line.  _ “Ah, Gasper-kun. You never fail to amuse.” _

I smiled fondly. “Always glad to oblige, Akeno-chan. Anyways, what can I do for you?”

I could hear her rustle papers in the background.  _ “It looks like you’ve got a contractor wanting to meet with you...a Yukimura-san?” _

“Oh, you mean Haseo-san? I’m actually pretty close to his house right now; I’ll swing by there on foot.”

_ “Alright then, Gasper-kun. Be safe, you hear me?” _ The note of concern in her voice was unusual, but unsurprising given the circumstances. 

“Of course. I have the rare advantage of ‘common sense’, after all.”

Akeno let out a soft, fond chuckle.  _ “I can’t argue with that. Well, I’m going to head to bed, but don’t hesitate to call if you need anything.” _

“Will do. Goodnight, Akeno-chan.” After she bid me good night, I hung up, polished off my onigiri, and sank into the shadows. Since I was only about five minutes away from the Yukimura household on foot, I almost immediately re-emerged in from of it. 

And suddenly, I was on edge.

An ominous air surrounded the suburban home. I could practically  _ taste  _ the Light emanating from the place. It was as strong as either of the Excalibur Fragments that Xenovia and Irina had shown off, but its... _ flavor  _ was distinct.

A growl rose deep within my throat. “ **_Freed._ ** ”

I fished in my pocket for my phone and quickly hit redial. I flowed towards the house’s side entrance with all the shadowed grace of one descended from the Lords of the Night, silent as the grave, noting the way the front door hung off its hinges as I considered the best approach to take—

—then my mind ground to a halt as I heard a high-pitched scream come from within the building. I broke into a sprint, abandoning stealth entirely as I recalled one extremely important fact.

_ Haseo Yukimura had an eight-year-old daughter. _

**AN: My apologies for the wait, my co-author Teninshigen had some stuff IRL he had to handle. However, we're back, and should manage to continue to update with some regularity. Enjoy!**


	6. Chapter Five: Blood In My Eyes

**Chapter Five: Blood In My Eyes**

**Asia**

I have accomplished a great many things in my time as an Exorcist.

I’ve travelled the world, met interesting people and punched them in the face – repeatedly. I’ve learned to appreciate a glass of wine and the sound the bottle makes when I break it over something’s head; I’ve stared a Stray Devil right in the eyes as I punched my hand through its chest and ripped out its still-beating heart before crushing it in my grip; and I’ve set the national shot-put record in five countries, though that claim to fame is a bit dubious thanks to the lack of surviving witnesses.

I’ve also been shot, stabbed, burned with both fire and acid, crushed, slashed, half-drowned, become frostbitten, been struck by lightning and on one memorable occasion I was swallowed whole.

I’ve walked battlefields, human and inhuman, as both a combatant and a medic. I’ve served as a bodyguard, a nurse, an investigator and a child-minder.

But the one thing that I’ve  _ never _ managed is learning to wake up gracefully.

Today wasn’t going to be the day that changed.

“Come  _ on _ Asia, the sun started rising ten minutes ago already!”

Unfortunately, I could not say the same for Irina Shidou.

I held stubbornly to my blankets as the Protestant Exorcist did her level best to drag them off me, digging her heels into the wooden floor of my quarters and putting her whole weight into the motion.

Hah. Silly Irina; I need to use weights a dozen times your mass just to get a decent workout. What part of this idea made sense to you? Do you even lift?

I heard a frustrated huff outside my cotton sanctuary and grinned to myself. Hah – take that, you unnatural creature of the morning. Suffer as I have done from your blasphemy against my sleep.

“Six years as a serving Exorcist and you  _ still _ refuse to wake up at a reasonable time…” Irina grumped, and I heard her stomp away out of the room.

In response, I sighed happily, squirming deeper into my warm sheets. Finally, some peace and quiet.

“Asia.”

My happy smile froze in place like a slashed throat undergoing rigor mortis.

“Asia, the sun is up. We must re-commence our search soon.”

I shivered a bit despite the warmth of my covers, drawing them tighter. A sigh sounded from beyond the fabric walls. “Very well then.”

Barely a moment later there was a distinct sensation of momentary weightlessness, then all my weight turned on my side as I was sent rolling off the bed and became hopelessly entangled in my bed-sheets.

I groaned my displeasure as I thrashed around, searching for the corner of my blankets. I didn’t succeed first, however, as I discovered when the blankets were peeled back from my head to reveal the light on the ceiling of my bedroom and Xenovia’s exasperated face.

Oh, and my bed. Which she had turned sideways to roll me off it.  _ ‘Why must the things I love always hurt me so?’ _

“What was that, Asia?”

“IT WAS NOTHING!” I declared, shooting up straight with the bed-clothes trailing from my shoulders. “IT WAS NOTHING AT ALL AND NOW IF YOU’LL EXCUSE ME I NEED TO GET DRESSED GOOD MORNING!”

By the time I finished speaking I had pushed Xenovia bodily out the door, her heels leaving obvious trails on my floor, and I quickly shut it before leaning against the closed portal and  _ sighing. _

“That..was  _ too _ close,” I muttered, turning back to my room and sighing again. “Dammit. Why did I have to choose a career with such stupidly early hours?”

I reached up to the blankets around my shoulders to slip them off, then paused. “Oh, yeah. Xenovia wouldn’t do anything else.”

I righted my bed with one hand and dropped the blankets on it with the other, then glanced back at the door. I couldn’t quite suppress the grin that broke through my morning stupor. “Troublesome girl.”

-x-x-x-

“...eliminated  _ these _ areas, so today’s patrol route should cover  _ these _ areas.”

Xenovia highlighted the relevant parts of the Kuoh City map with a red pen as Irina and I nodded along. I was on my third cup of coffee despite having finished the omelettes Irina made for breakfast almost a quarter of an hour ago. Irina, of course, hated the taste of coffee but was still all sunshine, rainbows and unhealthy amounts of ‘perk’ no matter  _ what _ hour of the day. And Xenovia…

“Since we found no traces of our quarry, so at this point we can make the assumption that we’re dealing with a...fairly small...force…”

Irina sighed. “Xenovia, you’re drawing on the floor again.”

Golden eyes blinked several times before Xenovia jerked upright from where she had lapsed into slouching, returning to a decent impression of full wakefulness in seconds. “A fairly small force, or one with a dedicated and well-concealed headquarters.”

...Xenovia had the unfortunate belief that sleep was for the dead. Of course, she had objected a bit strenuously when I started dosing her with sleep medication when we were younger, so there wasn’t much I could do about that.

...Except for the basic sleep-inducement spell I learned as part of my medical training, anyway. Of course, I had to catch her off-guard for that to work, and she’d take it out on me when she woke up, but it was usually worth it to have her well-rested.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t resort to either method while we were on a mission. She’d forgive me for many things, but not that.

“So I want to investigate the more run-down areas where officials might not notice unusual activity,” Xenovia continued, but was cut off by the sound of something tapping at the window.

That something appeared to be a raven. More specifically, it was Edmund, Johan’s Familiar. It let out a harsh croak, then pecked the window again, looking at me expectantly.

I could hear Xenovia and Irina rising behind me as I jumped to my feet and paced quickly over to the window, opening it to allow the Familiar entrance.

It fluttered forward and perched on the inner window sill, then opened its beak. Like the last time I’d seen it, a voice came from it rather than a croak, but this voice was distinctly different than the one it had spoken with the last time. Most notably, the voice was female this time.

“Master’s King wishes to meet with the three of you. When Master went to meet one of his contractees last night, he found them murdered, and their killer was about to kill their child with the Excalibur Fragment they bore.”

The three of us were pulling on our robes before the Raven Mocker had even finished its message, and I nodded to it as I settled the mantle around my shoulders. “Thank you. Let them know we’re on our way.”

With a nod, Edmund turned and flew off into the morning sunlight.

“I guess we’re going to be fighting soon, huh?” Irina said cheerily as we walked out of the church, her expression almost terrifyingly innocent to someone who couldn’t read the steel in her eyes.

“Yes,” I replied, “we are.”

_ ‘You better not have gone and gotten yourself hurt, Johan.’ _

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

**Gasper**

I sat on a couch in the ORC room, tapping a foot idly as I waited for Donne and his entourage to arrive. Freed had long since been freed, pun intended, from the grip of Forbidden Balor View, but now he was restrained in a far more humiliating fashion. Namely, he was trussed up like a prize hog with my shadow tendrils and gagged with the same (we had made  _ that _ decision about fifteen seconds into a tirade of invectives that impressed even me). 

Kiba was currently attempting to incinerate Freed with his gaze alone. Unfortunately for him but fortunately for us, he was failing at that endeavor.

Rias was seated in her usual position behind her desk, and if her hands were clasped more tightly than normal, and her gaze a fraction sharper than it should be, well...she could be forgiven for that. One of her family had just been in close proximity to an enemy bearing a weapon that was anathema to us, after all.

Akeno, on the other hand, looked as though she was caught between glee and frustration. Here before her was a helpless enemy trussed up in  _ just  _ the right way to play into her... _ tastes _ , and yet she had to restrain herself from fulfilling her fantasies. I shook my head. That woman was truly something else.

Koneko, for her part, was notably absent, as she had volunteered to keep Mariko company and try and cheer her up a bit. The fact that said cheering-up undoubtedly took the form of copious amount of candy would surprise nobody who’d spent any amount of time in Koneko’s presence.

As Freed twitched against his bonds, I regarded the blade everyone else in the room was pointedly ignoring. Just being in close proximity to it was like a headache for the soul; I shuddered to think what it would’ve felt like had I been dumb enough to let Freed finish monologuing and actually fight.

A knock at the door to the room snapped me from my reverie. The barest thought had a tendril snapping out and opening the door, revealing Donne, Irina, and Xenovia.

Xenovia and Irina both stepped inside with the measured pace of a soldier clearing a room, keeping fairly close to the door as they scanned their surroundings. Donne, on the other hand, strode forward with an easy step more at home in familiar territory. Xenovia certainly didn’t seem to approve of that, based on the way she scowled after my friend, but Donne just kept walking before stopping in front of me and giving me an appraising look. “You’re not injured?”

I shook my head. “No, I managed to get him before he could even come towards me.”

Donne snorted. “He was monologuing, wasn’t he.”

“Yyyyep,” I replied, popping the ‘p’. I jerked a thumb at the blade leaning against a bookshelf. “That’s Rapidly, right?”

Donne shot the blade a look, then took a step over and held a palm over the blade.

Even from where I was sitting, the blade had a certain discomfiting aura around it. Yet, when Donne’s hand descended on the blade, that aura seemed to die completely.

“Yeah, it’s Rapidly,” he confirmed, standing up again and leaving the Holy aura to rise in the air once more. “Man, it’s one hell of a chump who goes and loses a fast-draw when they’re holding literally a G...a divinely-granted weapon meant for  _ speed.” _

I nodded. “Yeah, he didn’t strike me as the most... _ sensible  _ individual, between the monologuing and the ‘Excalibur-chan’ and the murder.” I clenched a fist where it rested on my knee. “Little Mariko’s an  _ orphan  _ now because of this fucker.”

“Well it’s no wonder he came off as crazy,” Irina noted, the sneer audible in her voice as she took a small but pointed step away from the confined Stray Exorcist. “This is Freed Selzen. The Church can’t decide if he should be in Hell, a shallow grave, a prison or an asylum.” She paused, and there was a slithering sound from her sleeve. “Of course, if we cut him up into enough pieces then we could probably manage all of them at once…”

“Later, Irina,” Donne said, tone brooking no argument. “He might have earned it but we’ve been friends long enough that I know you’ll thank me later for not letting you do this now.” He turned to the mad dog I was keeping locked down and seemed to consider something. “...Of course, I can probably re-attach anything you cut off well enough that no-one’ll notice the difference, so we’ll come back to this topic another time.”

“If we’re replacing this topic,” Xenovia interrupted, “then how about we ask how a single Devil managed to incapacitate a former prodigy Exorcist holding an Excalibur Fragment?” She turned her gaze on me, golden eyes narrowing. “Even if Selzen  _ did _ let his mouth get away from him, I find it hard to believe that he was taken without any injuries on either side.”

“A fair question.” I leaned forward and tented my hands. “Well, it went something like this…”

-x-x-x-

_ As I burst into the living room of Mr. Yukimura’s home, phone in one hand and swiftly removed shades in the other, I took in several things at once.  _

_ First, I was too late to save Haseo. This was proven by the fact that his severed head was was at my feet, a permanent rictus of fear adorning his features. _

_ Second, I was not too late to save Mariko, his eight-year old daughter, though that could very well change in the next few moments. _

_ That brought me to the third thing. Freed Selzen, wearing what could only be described as a predatory grin, was advancing on Mariko, a thin jagged blade dragging along the ground menacingly. As one, both of the room’s living occupants turned to look at me.  _

_ “G-Gasper-nii?” Mariko, the dear child I’d become so attached to, looked at me with tears of hope and fear in her eyes. _

_ Such a sight...it filled me with DETERMINATION. _

_ “Ohhhhhh, if it isn’t the shitty Devil that this scum was trying to summon!” Freed’s features twisted with mad glee. “I wanted to test my new Excalibur-chan on the flesh of some sinner scum, but meeting a Devil? It must be provide-” _

_ Freed froze, his mouth still open in his monologue. _

_ I rolled my eyes. “Idiot. Like I wouldn’t take advantage of it if you’re gonna stand there and talk.” _

_ I walked over to Mariko and took her in my arms, letting her sob into my chest. “I promise, Mari-chan. He won’t get away with this. _

_ As I held the distraught, now orphaned child, a tendril darted from my shadow and yanked Excalibur Rapidly from where it dangled from Freed’s frozen fingers. My shadow deposited it on the ground and promptly dissolved, prolonged contact with even a Fragment of Excalibur being too much for it to handle. I winced; transporting it would be a pain in the ass. _

_ Abruptly, I recalled that I had called Akeno, and put the phone back to my ear— _

_ —only to wince and almost drop the device as a loud, panicked plea spilled forth from the other end. _

_ I was going to have to do  _ so much shit _ to make this up to her… _

-x-x-x-

“So Selzen didn’t say anything that could indicate he wasn’t working alone? Or give any clues about the whereabouts of the other Excaliburs?” Xenovia asked.

I sighed. “Unfortunately not. But given the choice between incapacitating him immediately and risking Mariko-chan’s safety, I’d make the same choice every time.”

Xenovia nodded, seemingly satisfied with that.

Then she turned to Donne. “Asia? Do you have your copy of the Inquisitorial Manual on you?”

My friend paused, apparently in mid-thought. Then he blinked, and  _ smiled. _ “You know, I think I do.”

Donne reached one hand inside his robes and began rummaging around, a slightly exaggerated look of focus on his face. “Now, let’s see here…”

The first thing out of his pockets was a pack of matches. “Consecrated matches, for candles and heretics.”

Next came a hammer and a bag of nails. “A hammer made from the wood of a Yew tree in a Vatican City graveyard and nails made from the old fence around the same graveyard. Ideal for exorcisms and crucifixion.”

A pair of scissors. “Scissors forged from silver gained by melting down a blessed cross found as part of a group of artefacts stolen by the Nazis. Useful for when you want to take a few inches off something.”

A length of curled leather with a handle on one end. “A whip, used for self-flagellation by a pilgrim hundreds of years ago.” The whip made a distinct  _ snap _ sound as Donne flicked it out. “There’s enough Faith and blood sunk into this thing to turn it into a Holy weapon in its own right.”

A length of rope followed. And followed, and followed, and followed, until the noose at the end appeared. “So  _ that’s _ where the old grappling rope went,” Donne noted, idly spinning the noose like a lasso by his side. “I thought I lost it after we had to fix those gallows in France.”

With each item removed from Donne’s seemingly bottomless pockets, Freed’s face became ever so slightly more nervous, though he did an admittedly impressive job of hiding it. If I couldn’t smell the way his sweat changed, I’d have thought him unconcerned.

Akeno, for her part, smelled so strongly of excitement that I could barely believe her face remained passive.

“Ah- _ ha!” _ Donne finally declared, his entire arm vanishing within the robes as he bent over slightly as if to try and get more reach. “There...we...are…!”

There was a very odd  _ whumpf _ sound from inside his robes, then my friend’s hand re-appeared with what looked like a leather shoebox. That he had pulled from his conspicuously bulge-lacking robes.

“There are a lot of people out there who claim to have written the book on something,” Donne noted happily, patting what I quickly realised was certainly no shoebox. “However, when it comes to the art of interrogation, I happen to know that it was the Vatican who coined the definitive work.”

He waved the book—the book which was several inches thick, wide and deep—in Freed’s direction in a vaguely menacing kind of way. “Mostly because I never leave home without it.”

Without breaking eye-contact with Freed, Donne dropped the book on the table in the middle of the room.

I heard it splintering amidst the following  _ thud. _

I shook my head ruefully. “First the couch, now this; is it a trend for you to break shit wherever you go, Asia-san?”

“Well, I wouldn’t know about  _ that—” _ Donne began, but he was instantly spoken over by Irina and Xenovia.

“Yes.”/“Yes.”

He shot both of his comrades a stink eye before turning back to me. “Alright, so I might have one or two issues with property damage,” he admitted. Then he turned to Freed. “Of course, you haven’t seen what I can do when I’m  _ trying. _ Yet.”

Freed gave Donne a scowl, and had he not been gagging on my tentacle, I’m sure he’d have let out a volley of vitriol and saliva into my friend’s face.

As it was, he could only make angry faces at him.

Which, apparently, wasn’t enough to stop Donne from, in one swift motion, spinning around, picking up the book and then slamming it into Selzen’s cheek.

Things broke.

The book wasn’t one of them.

I sighed. “Do try not to get  _ too  _ many bloodstains on the carpet, won’t you? I’m the one who’ll have to clean it up.”

Donne turned a bright smile on me. “No need to worry about that, Gasper-san. I have a  _ lot _ of experience getting blood out of things.”

He turned back to Freed, whose expression of hate and rage had cracked with just a hint of fear. I allowed my tentacle to cease filling his his throat.

“‘Uck ‘oo, ‘unt.” Selzen managed to work his badly strained jaw into saying.

The cracks widened, both in his expression and his jaw, when the book came round again. “Shame on you, Selzen,” Donne admonished. “There are ladies present.”

“Talk about throwing the book at someone,” I muttered.

“Ano...Gasper-senpai, Buchou, is...this really okay?” Issei asked hesitantly. 

“Ordinarily, I’d agree with with you there, Hyoudou-kun, but this guy?” I shook my head. “I know his type. He’s the type who won’t  _ ever  _ be happy. He’ll keep taking lives and bathing in blood until...well. Somebody’s got to stop him sometime, and that’s going to be us,  _ today _ .”

“Still, though that’s the case, your compassion does you credit, Hyoudou-san,” Donne chimed in. He quirked a wry grin. “It’s a rare enough trait to find in humans these days, let alone Devils.

“But at the moment it’s not needed,” he continued, “because right now I’m just making a point.” A soft green glow sprang up around my friend’s right hand as its fingertips pressed against Freed’s jaw, drawing my attention to the rings I hadn’t noticed him conjuring. The one on his left hand was glowing faintly, too. “I wonder, do you recognise this, Selzen?” Donne asked. “I think there’s a decent chance since the Church is always looking for the bearers of this Sacred Gear, but I suppose that maybe you just don’t care about anything but murdering the innocent for your own satisfaction.”

I didn’t recall there being so many... _ sounds _ when Twilight Healing was used in the show. And I certainly didn’t remember seeing the people being healed flinch around like Freed was doing as his jaw knitted back together. “I wasn’t kidding, about re-attaching bits of you after we cut them off.” Donne said, looking into Freed’s eyes without flinching. “And maybe I’d change the angle just a bit each time, for the variety. Not much, but with nerve endings it can all get so  _ finicky _ , you know? A small rotation of a finger either way and...well, it’ll just never work right again.”

Issei, in spite of our assurances, looked more than a bit green. However, to my approval, he clenched a fist and mastered himself, not averting his eyes from the scene before him. Perhaps there was a reason the pervert had a Dragon in him after all.

“Of course, if that’s not your poison of choice there’s all  _ sorts _ of other things we can try.” Donne patted the book. “We have hundreds of years of work to draw on here – and I bet you know it, too, since I  _ know _ you read this at some point. And because I know you read it, you’ll know what I mean when I say that you would be  _ amazed _ at what you can do with fire ants, rubber ducks, an alligator and a few well-placed acupuncture needles when you can keep someone alive as well as I can.”

Akeno let out a soft whine, her cheeks tinted a deep crimson. Clearly, even her restraint had its limits.

To my amusement, Xenovia—who had seemed content up until now to stand with her arms folded and her glare going full-force over Donne’s shoulder—turned to Rias’ Queen and took a small step sideways, placing herself between Akeno and Donne.

For the first time this meeting, Rias spoke. “Please, excuse my Queen’s outburst.” She shot Akeno a long-suffering glance. “She’s the ultimate sadomasochist, so what you’re doing...that’s as good as pornography for her.” The King rubbed her temples wearily.

“If she gets off on just the descriptions the table of contents would probably kill her,” Irina noted. That was interesting...she had almost completely faded into the background of my attention. When I  _ did _ start paying her attention, along with the rest of the room, she was spinning a butterfly knife around her hand. It was when  _ Freed _ looked at her, though, that she stopped. Stopped, smiled beatifically, and kept smiling as the knife in her hand flowed into the shape of a handful of needles.

“Whether it would kill her or our friend here first is the real question though,” Donne noted, and Selzen turned back to him with even larger cracks in his emotional mask. “And I know which I’d put money on.”

Donne regarded Freed for a long moment, green and red eyes locked. “Here’s the deal, Selzen,” Donne said quietly. “You didn’t get your hands on an Excalibur Fragment alone. You know who  _ did _ though, and you know where the others are. And you’re gonna tell us that.”

Freed’s look of defiance began to creep back in again, and Donne continued. “That’s not a challenge,” he said simply, “that’s fact. At some point, you  _ will _ tell us. And if it’s not me that gets the answers from you, it’ll be whoever we hand you over to at the Church.” Donne leaned forward. “Every being in this universe has a breaking point. You and I included. And if you don’t tell us, then when we turn you over the Church will throw you into the deepest, darkest hole they have with all the others like you and let you get... _ friendly _ with them.

“Then, after who knows how long, someone will come for you. And you’ll  _ wish _ you were back in the pit with the rest of your  _ miserable _ excuse for brethren.”

Donne suddenly shrugged, leaning back. “Or, of course, you could tell us now, and get the chance to persuade someone back in Rome that you’re just a poor, misunderstood little lamb gone astray who only needs a second chance to be shown the light. I, personally, don’t care that much – and that’s what I want you to _ really _ think about, Selzen.

“I. Do not care. About.  _ You _ .

“Whether you live or die, in agony or in bliss, I could not give  _ less of a shit. _ You’re small fry in a big game, and what you know we can find out in other ways. You’re just  _ convenient. _

“If you make yourself useful, we’ll use the kiddy gloves. If not…”

_ Thwump. _

Freed froze in place. Apparently he could feel, just as I could see, the blade of Excalibur Destruction that had just come to a stop barely half an inch above his neck after an overhead swing that spread waves of wind through the room when it halted.

“We do things  _ your _ way.” Donne winked. “Think about it, ‘kay? This decision will affect the rest of your life, after all.”

I looked at the psychotic Stray Exorcist who appeared to be regretting his entire life. “I’d do what the nice Exorcist says, Selzen. Either way you  _ slice _ it…” I nodded at Excalibur Destruction. “You’re  _ going _ to talk.”

And he did.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

**Asia**

God, I really needed fresh air.

I’d excused myself from the ongoing meeting in the ORC club room. Freed had spilled the beans about Valper Galilei and the Excalibur Fragments, as well as Kokabiel being their benefactor. He was still holding things back, like Kokabiel’s presence in Kuoh, probably hoping that the latter would catch of us off guard – but we had all we needed to get everyone on their toes and that was what mattered.

Now, if I could just find a good quiet spot in the shadows of the woods…

Though, speaking of shadows… “You’ve gotten really good at the whole ‘stalking’ thing, haven’t you Johan?”

A chuckle came from behind me along with the shape of my friend rising from my shadow. “Please, ‘stalking’ makes it sound so...well,  _ Issei _ -like. I use my powers for convenience, intelligence-gathering and, most importantly, pranks. No peeping in windows or following people to steal their underwear for me!” As he’d spoken, Johan circled from behind me to my right side.

“Well that sounds positively  _ dull,” _ I noted, finding a nice-looking patch a few metres into the tree-line and walking towards it. “What do you do for fun, then?”

“Oh, mostly the same things as before. I read, I shitpost, I take care of the cooking and cleaning for the Peerage…” He crossed his arms behind his head as he walked beside me. “Not much time for writing fanfiction anymore, now that I may as well be living in one. Oh, and training, of course. What’s the point of all this power if I let it sit and atrophy?”

“What’s the point indeed,” I muttered as we reached the spot. “You may wanna stand back a bit.”

I didn’t have the time to check if he’d done as I suggested before I stopped the flow of Twilight Healing from my fingers into my body, immediately feeling my skin go pale and clammy before my stomach twisted itself into a very impressive knot and I lost my breakfast.

Immediately, I felt a hand on my hair, holding it out of my face, and another rubbing tight circles on my back. I heard him mutter to himself, “I thought you were handling that too well...”

A couple of minutes passed before I staggered upright once again, resisting the urge to activate Twilight Healing again as I reached into one of my robe’s pockets. The garment itself had been tucked under my arm as I left the old school building so I could breathe better, but I could still retrieve a bottle of water to gargle with and spit out a couple of times before taking an actual drink.

“...Twilight Healing can completely suppress nausea,” I said quietly. “It can stabilise the inner ear, eradicate the aggravations of illness, even regulate sweat production and blood-flow or prevent cell damage from poisoning. When I’m using it, it’s physically impossible to look or be sick.”

I sighed, shivering a bit as I hugged my robes closer. “But it can’t heal the sickness on the inside.”

Johan was quiet for a long moment. When he spoke, his voice was just above a whisper. “I’m not going to tell you that what you did in there was moral; I know you wouldn’t appreciate me giving you that blatant lie. Honestly, if it weren’t for my Dhampir physiology, I’d be right down there with you.” 

His hand moved to my shoulder and clamped down firmly but not painfully. “But we both know that, however awful torture is, this was  _ necessary. _ ” He let out a dark chuckle. “The road to Hell may be paved with good intentions, but I hear they’ve installed train tracks now…” Johan cleared his throat. “ _ Not  _ quite sure where I was going with that, but my point is this: you did what had to be done. We  _ all _ did. And at the end of the day?” My friend turned me towards him. “It’ll save innocent lives. I don’t know about you, but I’ll bear any amount of guilt so that monsters like Freed, monsters like  _ Kokabiel _ , can’t run rampant over the innocent, ignorant masses of this world.”

I appreciated it. I really appreciated what Johan was trying to do for me. But I still couldn’t help but say, “Was it?”

I turned to look at him. “Was it  _ really _ necessary?” I tightened my grip on my robes. “...In the end, Freed didn’t tell us anything we didn’t already know. If I wanted to, I could have just told them; I could have come clean and explained everything to Xenovia and Irina and we would have made up some source for the information. But I didn’t do that.

“Because it wasn’t  _ convenient _ for me.”

I turned to the tree whose roots I’d desecrated. “I’ve dealt a lot of hurt in my time as an Exorcist.” I reached out with a hand. “I’ve broken and I’ve bent and I’ve killed, men who were monsters and monsters who were once men.”  _ Another _ part of me reached out too. “And somewhere along the line, I’ve gotten used to that. I can kill someone and go to sleep that night at least fairly confident that I’ve done the right thing somehow, only to lie sleepless the next night wondering just when I became okay with doing things like this.”

I could hear Johan pad up behind me, and he leaned on the tree himself. “You’re not the only one. As a Devil and Dhampir both, I’ve had to kill and bleed, when in my past life I  _ bawled _ at the mere sight of my sister salting a slug. The fact of the matter is, this world is fucking terrifying.” 

He looked over at me with a weary expression that his ever-present sunglasses did nothing to mask. “You’re asking yourself these questions; you’re  _ experiencing  _ that feeling of uncertainty, of  _ guilt. _ It feels awful, I know. Like a weight of hot lead in your gut and a foot on your chest. But that pain? That means you’re still human, where it counts.” He jabbed his thumb at his heart. “Even if I’m not biologically Homo Sapiens Sapiens any longer, or even Homo Sanguines Sapiens, I’m still human. And so are you.”

“...Yes, I suppose I am,” I admitted. “Even after everything, we’re all...only human.”

I breathed  _ in, _

**—growsunlightleechwater—**

I breathed _ out. _

The roots of grass and tree churned the dirt, pulling the mess on the ground beneath the surface where what nutrition remained could fuel new life. After a moment, the grass grew back to its previous height over the dirt, and there was no sign that anything had happened at all.

“...Maybe Senjutsu was what was meant for me,” I whispered. “Twilight Healing...was never meant for a person who would use it like that.”

Johan shook his head. “Say what you will, but sometimes even the best healer has to cut away a tumor, has to break a bone to set it. Sometimes, for there to be healing— _ true  _ healing—there must first be pain, harm. That’s not something the original Asia could have done, and I think that, in the long run, the world will be better off for it.”

I stayed in silent contemplation for a moment. Then I shook myself, standing straighter. “I suppose the only way to know is to wait and see,” I declared, swinging my robes around my shoulders again and letting the white cloth conceal me. “Sorry, for the angsting. I just…” My eyes flicked to the old school building. “Well, you’d understand, wouldn’t you? How few opportunities there are to really  _ talk _ for people like us.”

Johan chuckled mirthlessly. “Oh, if it was hard to find people to vent to before, now that we’re literally the only two of our sort that we know of...well. You take my point. Which is  _ why—” _ Johan pushed off the tree and stood, hands in his jacket pockets. “ _ — _ I will _ always  _ be glad to be the one you vent to. Just know that I reserve the right to do the same to you, hmm? I’m sure I’ll need it sooner or later.”

I nodded seriously, but kept a smile in place. “I can live with that.” I turned to face the old school building once more. “C’mon, we should probably get back before anyone gets any funny ideas.”

Johan smirked. “But other people misinterpreting what we do is half the fun!”

I knocked him gently with my shoulder, tucking my hands into my pockets. “So, tell me about this little girl – Mariko?”

Johan nodded, his smirk flattening into a sad frown. “Yeah. Mariko Yukimura. She’s a little firecracker; I think she wanted to prove that she was strong enough that her mom dying didn’t bother her.” He ran a hand through his hair agitatedly. “And now she’s lost her father, because of some  _ stupid _ psycho. I won’t let her lose anything else, damn it!” Johan’s face contorted into a rictus of grief and anger.

“She won’t, Johan,” I stated simply. “There was no way of knowing about the attack, and accepting that is the part that hurts the worst. But she’s here now, and we’ve got enough firepower on hand to reduce anything that threatens her to quantum foam.” I stopped, one hand emerging from my robes and gripping my friend’s shoulder. “She’s safe, Johan. And we’re going to keep her that way.”

**—defendpackdefendpackraiselitterfeedlitterprotectlitterhuntpreydevourprotect** **_fight—_ **

Green flickers curled around my fingers and the grass around my feet swayed against the wind. “One way or another.”

Johan exhaled slowly, a small bit of tension leaving his form. “I hope you’re right, I really do.” He tugged the everpresent chain around his neck. “I just hope that this’ll be enough—” He shot me a glance. “—Along with your Senjutsu, of course.”

“It will be,” I declared, continuing my walk to the old school building after patting my friend’s shoulder a couple of times. “But we can worry about that later. For now, I have a robe full of sweets and a sad little orphan.” I sighed, cracking my neck. “Feels like I never left Italy.”

A strained choking noise came from behind me. Johan appeared to be forcefully suppressing violent laughter. Quickly enough, he failed and let out a roaring cackle. “S-so,” he sputtered through tears of laughter, “you make a habit of showing little children the sweet treasures under your robe? Wow, you’re really playing to the stereotype in the  _ worst _ way.”

He was still laughing when a ballistic Toblerone bar to the head knocked him backwards onto the grass after a quickdraw that would have made Dio Brando jealous.

Unrepentant, Johan unwrapped the Toblerone and took a bite, somehow not spilling any chocolate or choking in spite of the convulsions of hysterical laughter that were still shaking his body. He rose from the ground and strode past me, chuckling and indulging his sweet tooth.

…

Well, at least he wasn’t moping any more.

**AN: Well, this chapter got kinda heavy. It can't be all shitposts all the time, not if we want to tell a story.**


	7. Chapter Six: Clean Cut Kid

**Chapter Six: Clean Cut Kid**

 

**Gasper**

I looked into Koneko’s room, a bemused expression on my face. Koneko looked back at me, her eyes pleading for help. The reason?

Somehow, she and Mariko had become tangled in what appeared to be a positively  _ massive  _ ball of yarn, and were now hanging suspended from the ceiling. Mariko had a distinctly pleased expression on her chocolate-smeared face.

I turned to Donne, who was staring at the mess with an expression of impressed awe. “I  _ told _ you she was a firecracker.”

“Yeah, a  _ firecracker,” _ Donne repeated. “This? This isn’t a firecracker. This is a  _ thermonuclear warhead.” _

As Donne responded, I manipulated my shadow with literal razor precision, freeing my two younger-sister figures from their tangled confinement. “A fair point. But Mariko’s a good girl; I’m sure there’s a  _ perfectly  _ logical explanation for this debacle. Isn’t that right, Ma-ri-ko- _ chan?” _

The smile on my face was utterly beatific as I aimed it at the younger of the two girls, and as I set them down Mariko began to visibly sweat, her eyes shifting from side to side nervously. She’d scarcely begun to babble a reply when my hand came down…

To ruffle her hair affectionately. As she swatted at my hand halfheartedly, a pout on her face, I continued, “In all seriousness, Mariko-chan, I hope you’ll keep the messes small while you’re here. Big brother is the one who has to clean it all up, you know?”

Mariko nodded, her puffed cheeks causing my older-brother instincts to go into overdrive. I’d probably have stood there all day, just administering headpats as Koneko looked on with that odd expression on her face, had Donne not cleared his throat.

“Gasper-san,” he drawled, “I seem to remember you raising a point about stereotypes not five minutes ago…”

I shook a finger at him in a mock-reproving manner. “That was that and this is this. Headpats are the most wholesome of interactions an older brother figure can give. It’s this country that has corrupted the purity of the act.” I turned to Koneko. “You’ll back me up, right?”

She stared at me with the flattest of expressions. “Lolicon.”

I clutched my chest as though mortally wounded, falling to one knee. “Betrayed by my own daughter! What has the world come to!”

“Common sense and reason, apparently,” Donne chuckled. “And ‘daughter’? I thought you were her ‘older brother’.”

I looked up at him with an amused smirk. “I’m a Devil,  _ dahling _ . Common sense and reason are mere suggestions to us, and I’m sure there’s a Devil family or six with sister-daughters and brother-fathers.”

Mariko simply watched this exchange with wide-eyed, childish wonder.

I stood from where I knelt, taking Mariko’s hand in mine and leading her towards the door, Koneko following behind me. With a completely straight face, I offered my free hand to Donne.

He cocked an eyebrow. “You  _ do _ realise that Xenovia is only a few metres away right now and almost certain to see us?”

I clicked my tongue in mock-disappointment. “Ah, what a shame. Something like my safety from an enraged Holy Sword user standing in the way of a perfect joke. Ah well. Such is life.”

I made to move past Donne and exit the room, but I froze when I felt a small hand slip into my own. I looked over at Koneko, whose flat expression was only compromised by the pink tint of her cheeks. I could barely hear her mutter under her breath, “Gasper-nii?” as though she was tasting the words.

If it weren’t for my Devil body, I’d have succumbed immediately to rapid onset Type-Moe Diabetes. As it was, my heart clenched in my chest at the sweetness.

Donne just looked amused. “You, my friend, are going to the  _ special _ hell.”

“Well,” I drawled in an exaggerated Southern US accent, “Momma always did done tolt me ah wus her special boy.”

Koneko facepalmed, and Mariko looked confused at the sudden switch to English.

Donne, however, just shook his head, then replied in the same language. Compared to his Japanese, the slight hints of the suppressed Scottish accent were more obvious in his mother tongue. “So, how much does the little one know about the Moonlit World?”

I sobered. “Well, she knows it exists, and that my race doesn’t necessarily indicate my morality. Other than the fact that Devils exist, and that ‘people with big bird wings’ are dangerous to us, not much. I haven’t told her anything about the other factions outside of very basic details about the Abrahamic trio and about the Yokai, and the latter was only because she’s always been interested in the old stories about them.” I looked over at Donne curiously as I struggled to maneuver the halls with a girl on each arm. “Why, what are you thinking?”

Without a word, Donne raised his left hand out of the line of Mariko’s sight. The light glinted on the crystalline ring there.

I arched an eyebrow. “I know you think you’re being all subtle and clever, dear, but that doesn’t really answer my question. You want to heal her? I suppose it couldn’t  _ hurt _ , but...why? She doesn’t appear injured to me, and I don’t recall reading anything about Twilight Healing working on mental stuff like trauma.”

“It’s surprisingly effective on PTSD,” Donne noted, “and a couple of other things where actual neurological damage plays a part.” He lowered his hand. “Partly, it’s because I want to be sure. Partly, it’s because you’d be amazed how many little injuries we pick up and don’t think about until they’re gone.” He sighed. “But mostly? It’s because I really need to be Asia the Healer right now, and not Asia the Exorcist.”

I nodded. “Understandable. I’d prefer if Mariko has a say, though.” I switched back to Japanese as I turned to regard Mariko. “Mariko-chan, I know you’re being very strong about...what happened last night.” Her face fell; clearly she’d been doing her damnedest to not think about what Freed had done, something I couldn’t blame her for at all. 

I continued to speak to her in a calm tone. “My friend, Asia, wants to help you be strong, to see if there’s anything hurting. Is that okay with you?”

The black-haired girl, seeming so small all of a sudden, stared into my eyes, her own clouded by tears, and asked almost desperately, “Will it make the hole inside me go away?”

Something in my chest suddenly twisted inward, drawing a wince from me as it seemed to crush itself down, and I released Koneko’s hand as I knelt and pulled the grieving child close. “No,” I whispered, “but it’ll help you start to fill it.”

At Mariko’s mumbled agreement, Donne laid his hand upon her head.

And there was light.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

**Asia**

“...thoroughly already, so we can be certain that our targets aren’t in their vicinity,” Xenovia informed the rest of the room as she highlighted sections of the Kuoh map placed on the table in the centre of the room. “However, our familiarity with the area is…” She glanced over at Irina, who scratched the side of her head and laughed nervously. “... _ lacking,” _ she finished, before turning to Rias. “A more current account of the area’s state might provide new leads.”

Rias nodded and turned to Johan. “Gasper, by virtue of his abilities, is our resident intelligence expert. He... _ very rarely _ drops the ball on things like this.” Johan flinched almost imperceptibly, his head twitching toward Issei, then stepped forward, looming over the table in a bat-like manner.

Maybe this was why Rias kept such a short table?

He cleared his throat, then took up a marker and began to add to the map, speaking as he did so. “Here and here are highly unlikely; they’re extremely crowded and see lots of foot traffic at all hours of the day or night. Now there—that’s the den of a Stray we cleared out a while back; it’s a fairly big warehouse with a decent sized basement, plus several places for a lookout to be able to see most of the surroundings without being spotted himself.”

He circled that warehouse, as well as a couple of other places, then pointed to them in turn. “These two are  _ also _ fair choices; this one is smaller by a fair margin but has better cover for the occupants, while that one is nestled in a hillside and has just one public entrance. Perfect for bottlenecking enemies and sniping them from cover.”

He straightened. “All three of these are fairly viable locations, but if I had to guess?” He cupped his chin, then tapped the first warehouse. “Valper, based on what you’ve told me of him, does not strike me as the strategic sort. He’s probably selected his base for function and form over defenses. By virtue of its size, this one is the most likely choice.”

“Galilei was never averse to spoiling himself,” Irina agreed, shuddering slightly. “I only met him once, but he was just so…” She stuck her tongue. “Bleh!”

_ ‘The man condemned an entire testing facility of children to death by toxic gas, and he’s bleh.’ _ I knew Xenovia as well as I knew myself. Irina...I had worked with her a lot, in the field and in training, but I didn’t have the same bond with her as I did with Xenovia. I’d count her as a friend and I would trust her with my life— _ had _ trusted her with my life, and had been trusted with hers, both more than once—but occasionally…

Well.

_ Bleh. _

“Considering his predilections and history, it is logical to assume that he would select the most auspicious available option,” Xenovia agreed, and I nodded my own support. 

Johan nodded, then straightened, folding his arms. 

Rias stood at the same time.”Well, all that is left to do now is plan a course of attack. Assuming you three are willing to cooperate with us, the logical thing to do would be approach from multiple sides, to make sure that Galilei has less a chance of escaping.”

Xenovia and Irina turned to me. I stared at the map for several long seconds, drumming my fingers on the outsides of my crossed arms, thinking. “Well, Ms Gremory, I’d say that depends on the answer to one simple question.”

Rias arched a crimson eyebrow, and motioned for me to continue.

I smiled. “Can any of you fly with a passenger?”

-x-x-x-

It was warmer than I’d expected, being up so high without a cabin surrounding me. It might be my coat, which I’d swapped my robes for at the church prior to the beginning of the assault, or it might just be that I was one tough motherfucker these days, but the high-altitude wind-chill just couldn’t seem to get a grip on me.

“So. I have to ask; is this plan more for the thrill of it, or for the tactical and demoralization advantage? Because I refuse to believe that you don’t get  _ some  _ pleasure out of it.” I couldn’t see his face, as I was dangling under him from a harness made of shadow, but I was sure Johan was wearing that wry grin of his.

“A little from column A, a little from column B!” I called up to him, peering down at Kuoh below as we got into position. “And a little from column C, too!”

“Oh? Dare I ask?” he replied.

The warehouse was directly below us now. I looked up, grinning at my friend as the familiar adrenaline rush brought a few more teeth to light. “I’m proving something I told Xenovia a long time ago!”

“Ah, a trial of love, then!” he called, and I could  _ hear _ the shit-eating grin on his face. “Please, enlighten me, o’ wise Exorcist!”

“In matters of war,” I began, “no matter the problem...”

_ My heartbeat. The rhythm of my life. The drums of war in my veins. _

My fist clenched. “The solution…”

_ My breathing. The winds of my progress. The bellows of the furnace in my heart. _

My lungs filled. “Is always one…”

_ My Touki. The power of my own arm. The middle finger I raised to everything in my way. _

Emerald luminescence exploded outward from my heart, encompassing my body and filling me with strength beyond the physical. “At sufficient velocity!”

Johan let out an unrestrained cackle at my words. “A toast, then! To friendship, to fury, and to the might of your fist!” Shadow burned away, and I plunged towards the earth, a blazing star of green.

My arms and head tucked in, my body tilted forward, head to the earth as I accelerated. My coat, unadorned but long and grey with a dark blue interior, trailed behind me like a comet’s tail. My smile was almost as wide as my face and I damn well knew it.

This was the kind of thing I lived for.

Beside me, a black knife split the air, Johan wreathing himself in a cloak of shadow shaped to minimize drag. I couldn’t see his face through the abyssal cocoon, but I was sure it matched my own.

We’d fallen almost halfway before I began to flip forward. “Is my word not like fire, demanded the Lord!” I yelled, the shell of my Touki sealing out the rushing wind as I got my feet beneath me. “And like a hammer…”

A second to impact. I drew my knees up. “...which shatters a rock!”

Johan screamed a battle cry of his own, albeit one far more Chunnibyō than mine, as his shell pierced the roof. “ **_Shadow Form—Phantom Bullet!_ ** ”

And he  _ was _ like a bullet, tearing a relatively small hole through the roof and smashing a fairly deep crater into the floor when he did.

My landing was…

Well.

I eventually found out seismographs in the Ring of Fire picked up on the tremors.

In the moment though, the evidence of the strike’s effectiveness came when I blew a hole nine times my size in the ceiling and utterly destroyed the warehouse’s floor, along with several sections of the wall and a significant part of the basement.

In the hush that can only come in the wake of something stupendously loud, I grinned to myself. “Superhero landing.”

A shaky cackle came from above me, where Johan had suspended himself with shadows from the shattered remains of the ceiling, smoothly lowering himself down to my side. “You have  _ got _ to teach me that,” he repeated the same words he’d said to me a few nights ago.

I winked up at him as I stood. “Well, I’m kind of obligated to ask you something first.” I tugged on the lapels of my coat to dislodge the dust, smiling as another section of wall collapsed in a rather timely manner. “Do you have a few moments of your time to talk about our lord and saviour—” And that was when the floor beneath me caved in, plunging me into the basement.  _ “—JESUS CHRIST!” _

With yet another cackle, Johan shouted, “Only if I get to drink the communion wine!”

Lying amid a pile of rubble, I blew a lock of hair out of my face and sighed. “You need wine like I need meth amphetamines!” I declared. Then I looked sideways from where I was lying and found myself looking at a rotund figure whose mere existence made me  _ so fucking mad _ I came right back around to placid. “And as for  _ you _ , Valper Galilei...”

A significant portion of the basement’s remaining ceiling caved in around the fat bastard, depositing Irina, Xenovia and the combined Gremory Peerage.

“You done goofed,” Johan completed my statement in a tone of voice I’d only heard on a few extremely rare occasions. Cold, flat, devoid of his ever-present snark and wit; it was what I imagined listening to the voice of an abyss would be like. Fitting, considering how the shadows began to writhe violently as he spoke.

The former Archbishop looked around carefully, pushing his glasses up his nose. “...I don’t suppose any of you have heard the good news about Excalib—”

And that was as far as he got before Kiba smacked him on the back of the head with twelve feet of steel.

“Ah, you finally found a use for The Compensator, I see,” Johan quipped, though his voice still sounded... _ hollow _ , compared to normal.

Kiba had the decency to look at least a bit embarrassed...with what parts of his face  _ weren’t _ involved in the apocalyptic glare of murderous fury he was aiming at Galilei, anyway. The Knight let out a mirthless chuckle, then replied, “Well, it’s only fitting I use such a useless sword to take down a worthless excuse for a human being.” The acidity of his tone could’ve replicated the results of the fight with the infamous ‘Breast Acid Devil’, had it been more than a turn of phrase.

Johan shook his head, then twitched a hand. From a table in the corner of the room, the Excalibur Fragments of Nightmare and Transparency were tugged towards me, riding a carpet of rapidly dissolving shadows. “Your blades, sire,” he shot at me, his voice slowly but surely returning to its normal state.

I nodded, taking hold of both hilts and quickly sliding the blades inside my coat. “Thanks, Gasper-san.” I gave him a level look. “Is there anything else?”

He knew very well I wasn’t talking about whatever equipment Valper might have lying around. 

Johan cleared his throat wetly and nodded. “I think that’s all. We should probably go, before we get caught in some Bond-style self-destruct sequence...only, you know, lamer.”

“Galilei may well have made some provision for a situation like this,” Xenovia nodded. “We should clear the area and put him in confinement before the regular authorities arrive.”

I nodded as well. “Alright then, let’s get underway before anything unexpected happens.”

Johan inclined his head. “I’ll take point in Shadowform; that way I can scout inconspicuously.” Without waiting for a reply, he sank into the shadows, his energy signature drifting away from me rapidly.

I looked after him for a moment, the corner of my mouth turned down, then shook my head and glanced around. “...I don’t suppose anybody saw a staircase?”

“You destroyed it when you landed,” Irina told me cheerfully.

I sighed. “Of course I did…” By the time I looked up the Devils had already flown to the upper level, Galilei—who had been bound in what looked suspiciously like knotted whips—held between them. “Oh come on, that’s just not  _ fair!” _

I turned to my comrades, just in time to find Irina hauling herself up the basement wall with the chain of a kusarigama whose blade was stuck somewhere above. “So, are  _ you  _ going to ‘subtly’ criticise me for my own lack of subtlety tonight?” I asked wryly.

Xenovia blinked. “A lack of subtlety?”

My expression fell into an instant deadpan, and Xenovia’s mouth twitched. “Sometimes, I really feel like I’m not getting the respect I’m due as the leader of this combat team,” I opined while we walked towards the edge of the collapsed floor above.

“On the contrary,” Xenovia replied, “your leadership is a valued commodity and we greatly appreciate the work you do for us.” We reached the edge of the collapsed area and eyed the collapsed ‘ledge’ above. “Now please try not to demolish the rest of the ceiling when we jump.”

Like the mature role-model I was, I stuck my tongue out at her as we jumped, both landing flawlessly on a more stable part of the ground floor...

...And at that moment, a panicked Johan practically lept from the shadows to stand before his King. “A fucking Ten-Wing!” the Dhampir hissed, the stress in those four words nowhere near entirely faked.

Rias inhaled sharply, while Akeno’s eyes widened then narrowed in short order. Koneko’s only reaction was to clench her gloved fists, while a pair of blackened blades appeared in Kiba’s hands, vaguely similar in appearance to the Holy Eraser he’d used in canon, albeit emitting a stronger energy.

Issei, on the other hand, turned so pale he could’ve been Johan’s cousin.

Mimic had already formed Irina’s favoured katana, and Destruction was unwrapped and held at the ready. I took a deep breath, reaching into my coat and withdrawing a simple pair of white gloves, each bearing an Iona cross on its back and a few words spaced around the circumference.

I slid them on with my customary solemnity, and it felt like nothing more than it did donning a suit of armour. “Well then,” I said simply, “let’s go see what he wants.”

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

**Gasper**

I suppressed the urge to engage in any number of my nervous tics as we paraded outside, my shadow having linked to each of the others’, that I might raise a barrier at a moment’s notice if necessary. Granted, such a barrier would likely only slow an attack from someone of Kokabiel’s caliber for a fraction of a second, but bought time was bought time.

The man hovered above us, sneering down from a chair he’d conjured from somewhere since I’d first glimpsed him.

“If it isn’t the Lucifer’s sister and her little pets. Oh, and what’s this? The dogs of the Church, too? Truly, I’m honored to be received by such a diverse crowd.” The sarcasm in the pointy-eared Fallen’s voice was so thick that it was actually palpable...or perhaps that was the oppressive aura the Cadre was emitting.

He smirked at Valper’s trussed and unconscious form. “I see you managed to take down an unarmed, untrained, aged Archbishop.  _ Very _ impressive.”

Kiba made as to lunge forward, but I slammed my palm against his chest, fortifying my arm with a pulse of magic. “ _ Not  _ the time, Yuuto,” I bit out firmly. He exhaled, gripping his Star Eater blades so hard his knuckles whitened, then reluctantly nodded his acquiescence. 

This little exchange wasn’t lost on Kokabiel, based on the glint in his eyes and the brief moment I could  _ feel _ his gaze piercing me.

Thankfully, that moment was over quickly, as Kokabiel’s gaze widened to encompass the whole group. “I suppose that I should give you a small reward for capturing one of my pawns—well, I suppose it’d be two, considering that Valper over there was whining about his ‘perfect wielder’ being missing.” The Watcher of Stars shrugged. “It’s not as though they were particularly  _ important  _ to my plans, but a capture is a capture.”

His eyes flashed with glee as his face was split by a mad grin. “Tomorrow night, I’m going to come to your little school and slaughter every last one of you,“ his grin widened, “but not before I’ve had my way with both of the sisters of the Maō, along with each and every one of your whore pets.” His gaze moved to Xenovia and Irina. “In fact, you little Church harlots would make a fine appetizer as well.”

My blood froze in my veins, and I saw red. Balor roared for blood within my soul, and I damn near launched myself into the air, my earlier words to Kiba be damned. I’d have gotten myself killed then and there...if it wasn’t for Donne laying a firm hand on my shoulder and and squeezing. 

My head snapped around to regard my friend, and I exhaled. His expression was, technically, a smile – but it was in the way that a painting is technically a face. It wasn’t any kind of expression, it was just that Donne’s blank mask was shaped with a tiny smile on it.

I didn’t need to see that completely blank expression to know he was keeping himself on a leash – I could feel the trembling of his fist where it lay on my shoulder, feel the warmth of Touki waiting just beneath his skin. Yet he didn’t move a single step towards Kokabiel or even speak a word.

…

His self control must have been on the level of a Bodhisattva.

Seeming rather disappointed by the fact that none of us attacked him, Kokabiel tented his hands. “Well, I suppose I’ll be seeing you. Enjoy your last moments of life and innocence!”

With that mocking statement, Kokabiel, his luxurious chair, and his  _ fucking _ smug face vanished into thin air.

There was the sound of metal shattering as Kiba’s blades finally gave up trying to withstand his rage.

Issei, for once, came up with an accurate summation of how everyone was feeling at that moment.  _ “Fuck.” _


	8. Chapter Seven: When the Night Comes Falling from the Sky

**Chapter Seven: When the Night Comes Falling from the Sky**

**Asia**

“Asia-san,” Mariko said quietly, “Gasper-nii isn’t going to leave me too...is he?”

“Not at all,” I replied, re-adjusting the girl on my shoulders as I walked the wooded path. “Gasper-san is going to be around for a very long time – and he’ll spend as much of that time with you as you’d like, if I had to guess.”

Johan was never one for holding back when it came to caring about others. Sure, it was rare for him to actually  _ start _ , but when he got going he never stopped.

Not that I could blame him. This little one was worth it.

Mariko clung more tightly to my neck and said nothing. I hoped that I’d managed to comfort her. “So Mariko-chan,” I began, “what do you like to do for fun?”

Mariko hummed in thought, a sound so similar to one of Johan’s that she  _ had  _ to have picked it up from him. “I like practicing my jujitsu, and collecting bugs. Gasper-nii showed me a really cute one that  _ exploded _ out of itself! He called it a...seekaydah?”

“A cicada, huh?” I asked, stepping around a prominent root. “There are a lot of those around Japan during the summer. Maybe you and Gasper-san can go hunting for them sometime soon, eh?”

“You should come too,” Mariko decided, “You and Xenovia-san. She looked like she wanted to be near you more.” Looking up, I could see the little girl nod sagely. “She looks at you like mama looked at papa.”

Wisdom from the mouth of...well, not quite  _ babes _ , but close enough for government work. I couldn’t help the smile that pulled at the corner of my lips. “It’s nice of you to say, Mariko-chan, but I’m afraid that Xenovia and I might have to go away for a while soon.” I stepped over a rock. “And besides, Xenovia and I are…” I sighed. “We’re very good friends. And that’s fine.”

Mariko blew a raspberry. “‘Fine’ is  _ boring _ . Gasper-nii always said ‘if you want to find bliss, you gotta grab life by the face and shake your joy out of life’s pockets’.” She made a noise of consternation. “I dunno why he didn’t just say happiness; bliss sounds weird. But Gasper-nii is weird, so I guess I get it.”

I plastered a smile on my face, adding a bit more bounce to my step. “Oh?  _ Boring?” _ I asked playfully, “Am I  _ boring, _ Mariko-chan?”

The precocious child let out a giggle. “You’re an  _ adult _ ; everyone knows adults are boring.”

“Oh  _ really?” _ I drawled, stopping for a moment and gathering my legs under me. “Well, would you call this  _ boring?” _

And I jumped – mostly forward but high enough to clear the canopy, the forest rushing by below as the faint glow of Touki wrapped around us both and held off the wind.

Mariko’s only response was to shriek in ecstatic joy.

I managed three more successive jumps, the landings in between cushioned by my life-force, before we skidded to a halt in front of the church and I grinned over my shoulder at her. “So? Am I just a boring adult now, Mariko-chan?”

Between fits of giggles, Mariko managed to choke out a reply, “No-o-oh! Asia-nii is as fun as Gasper-nii!”

“That’s more like it,” I declared, putting my nose in the air as I walked over to the church and pushed the doors open. Once they were closed behind me, I reached over my head and took a careful hold of the little limpet there, lifting her over and turning her the right way up before I placed her on the ground. “You remember to tell Gasper-san that when we see him again, okay?”

Mariko nodded vigorously with a cute ‘Mm!’, then looked around the church with a slight air of wonder. Finally, she turned back to me, a question in her eyes. ‘I’ve entertained you for the past several minutes, boring adult, now what are we going to do?’

To my eternal frustration, I wasn’t particularly tall in this life. I was, in fact, possibly eligible to be referred to by a five-letter word beginning with ‘s’ that had long become a  _ four _ letter word in the Vatican. That said, Mariko was still a little thing, and I took a knee so I could meet her eyes when I spoke with her. “Mariko-chan. Gasper-san and I need you to stay here for tonight.”

Mariko rolled her eyes, a bit of Johan’s sass surfacing in her. “ _ Duh _ . Why else would you bring me here? One of those meanie bird-people is gonna be doing bad things, aren’t they?”

I gave her a wry grin. “Gasper-san taught you well, huh?” I sighed. “Yeah. There’s a very bad man coming to town tonight and we’re going to try and stop him.” I reached into my coat, withdrawing a notepad page of paper with carefully-written characters printed on it. “If one of us doesn’t come and get you by lunchtime tomorrow, you’ll need to use the phone in my bedroom and call this number.” I held out the little slip of paper.

Mariko took it gingerly, a look of fear flashing across her face before she jutted out her chin and made a face of determination. “I won’t need this,” she declared. “You’re gonna pluck the bad bird-man’s feathers and come back. I believe in Asia-nii and Gasper-nii!”

I stared at her for a moment, wondering if the sparkles were my imagination, then reached out and pulled her into a hug. “How could we ever lose when we have that on our side?” I asked aloud, pulling back after a moment and rustling Mariko’s hair with a smile. “Yeah. We’ll be back, Mariko-chan, and we’ll all go and search for cicadas.”

I stood up, extending my hand to Mariko and leading her toward the back of the church when she took it. As we walked, I considered, then shrugged internally. “But since you’ve got so much faith in me, I’ll have some in you too, Mariko-chan.” I looked down at her, my eyes twinkling. “Can you keep a secret, Mariko-chan?”

Her eyes lit up as she nodded more quickly than a bobblehead in an earthquake. “Well, Mariko-chan, you see…”

-x-x-x-

_ “Eeeeeh? Asia-nii is—” _

-x-x-x-

I left Mariko on my bed, surrounded by the books I’d brought on the trip and with little pages of notes that would let her use everything in the living quarters. There was food in the kitchen, a TV that worked seventy-percent of the time, an escape tunnel hidden at the back and a switch to move the altar hidden behind a loose brick near the entrance.

_ ‘She’ll be fine.’ _

I pushed the altar back into place once I’d climbed out, resting my hands on it for a moment and bowing my head with eyes closed.

_ ‘She  _ will  _ be fine.’ _

My eyes opened.

My back straightened.

The doors flew open at my passing and locked themselves tight behind me, and my gloves settled into place on my hands with all the finality of a judge’s gavel.

_ ‘I’ll make sure of it.’ _

Then I carefully judged the vector and  _ jumped _ , my coat billowing behind me as I flew toward Kuoh Academy on a ballistic arc more suited to a mortar than a human being.

_ ‘No matter  _ who _ it kills.’ _

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

**Gasper**

I’ve never liked waiting.

As nine of us stood, arrayed against the oncoming storm that called itself Kokabiel, none of us technically older than nineteen, I decided that my dislike was nowhere near strong enough and that patience could go fuck itself.

Donne, Kiba, Koneko and Xenovia were at the vanguard. Each of them was as sombre and serious as the front line in this fight should be, and as an added marker of how they were taking this Xenovia had unsealed Durandal. The massive cobalt blade was held in her right hand, Destruction in her left hand, and my fellow Peerage members had backed a few steps away from her as the combined Holy aura washed off her.

Issei and Irina stood several feet behind them, Boosted Gear out and ready while Excalibur Mimic flowed from one shape to another as Irina watched the skies. Finally, Akeno, Rias, and I brought up the rear, ready to rain down hell.

Sona and her peerage were waiting outside the school, ready to bring up a barrier the moment Kokabiel arrived, so that any collateral damage would be contained to the school grounds.

We weren’t ready. We were nowhere  _ near _ ready, in any way that really mattered. But we had no other choices on the table and a wall of Light at our backs, so we were doing it anyway.   
I could only hope we would pull this off.

[ **(BGM Start – 0:04)** ](https://youtu.be/7JZz5V86UoI?t=4)

_ Once upon a time, in the days of myth and legend, an Angel was born in Heaven. _

“He’s here,” Irina said tersely, Mimic holding as a sword in her hands while our eyes turned upward.

_ With ten wings of pure white and a heart full of love, he was made by the hand of God. _

His ten black wings were a veil to hide the moon as he descended.

_ He was given all the lights in the sky as his own, to watch over and to guard. _

I wondered if the others felt like I did – that his eyes were locked on my own despite the distance and the dark.

_ But when war came, and the battle called his name... _

I wondered if they felt the hate.

_...His heart turned full of bloodlust, and the stars overtook the night. _

He touched down.

_ He is Kokabiel, the Lord of the Stars. _

And his arms spread wide before us.

_ And tonight, he falls on us. _

**(BGM End – 0:40)**

“Time to die, little Devils,” he sneered. “You did well not to run. I might have been annoyed otherwise.”

Well if running made him tetchy, the way our front line immediately charged must have  _ really _ pissed him off.

The four fighters hit him in waves, not bothering to remain together when they each needed room to fight. Kiba’s initial strike was like lightning, flashes and sparks filling the space between him and Kokabiel as the Cadre met his blades with Light. It ended in only seconds, Kiba hurled from the exchange as a pitch black wing swung over Kokabiel’s shoulder and swept him aside. When it withdrew, it revealed Xenovia, whose overhead strike with both swords was stopped by four wings held high.

While she hung in space, Donne and Koneko came in low, a blade of Light swinging for each—

—And both missing entirely as the force of Xenovia’s attack continued on, through the Cadre’s guard and into the ground below which abruptly burst. Earth became dust and flew upward, blinding the fighters but more importantly giving them cover.

Two  _ kiai _ sounded a bare moment before there was a sound like twin cannons firing, followed by the Lord of the Stars rocketing backwards out of the cloud of dust like a bullet with two depressions in his chest.

He came to a skidding halt a few seconds later, looking up and glaring as the fighters came back into sight. Xenovia’s arms were covered in cuts from the drifting feathers around her, Donne had a bleeding cut along his outer arm and Koneko was clutching her side.

“So the humans like to play with mud,” the Cadre sneered as he stood up, new blades of Light forming in his hands. “Fitting for useless filth like you.”

I think everybody took offense to that. So we took our offense to Kokabiel, in the form of lightning, Destruction and blades of shadow, all of which arced over our front line and down on where Kokabiel was standing. We quickly adjusted our aim as the Cadre came flying low and fast out of the debris, staying ahead of our bombardment and closing quickly.

Xenovia, Koneko and Donne went in to meet him, Xenovia on point, but they hadn’t made contact before a streak of black and white shot between them and plunged a sword into the ground.

A wave of steel sprouted in a wall between the front line and Kokabiel, oversized sword blades growing like trees with barely a gap between them. Kokabiel didn’t bother to stop and went straight through them, leaving scrap and a steely scream in his wake as Light conquered demonic steel, but on the other side he found  _ more _ swords.

Durandal and Destruction, to be specific.

Kokabiel’s blade of light cracked beneath Durandal, though the other held well against Destruction, and the others piled in to take advantage. They then piled out again, Kokabiel’s wings sweeping out and casting them aside with curses and yells. Xenovia pulled back to avoid the same fate, but was forced into a retreating defence as the Cadre launched his own assault in turn.

“The last man to wield that blade was my match even on his own!” Kokabiel taunted, looming over Xenovia as she tried to keep his swords away. “It’s almost pitious to see the fate’s that come...”

Then there was a sudden pause in his assault as something thin and fast slammed into his back, piercing through the gap between his wings’ roots and emerging out of his shoulder.

Kokabiel paused, taken off-guard, and Irina’s voice sounded from behind him. “Almost as pitious as your attention span.”

The tip of Excalibur Mimic split into three, forming an arrangement like a grappling hook before pulling tight as Irina yelled “NOW!”

Xenovia slammed forward in a headbutt, knocking Kokabiel fully upright while twists of her blades pushed out his arms. Koneko and Donne each came in from a different side, grabbing ahold of his wings despite the razor edges and pulling them wide to leave the Cadre as open as they could.

And into that opening we poured hell.

“DRAGON SHOT!”

“EXTERMINATION GATE!”

“NIGHTMARE SWORD CAGE!”

“Wrath of _ Raijin. _ Scream for me, you old crow! _ ” _

**_“Be consumed from within._** **_Sanguine Shadow Shaping: Phantom Blood.”_**

The scarlet blast of Draconic might hit first, knocking Kokabiel for a loop that kept him docile for just another second. That second was the time for the assault group to get clear, just in time for a downpour of red-black weapons to pelt Kokabiel with pure Destruction, a barrage that had him held in place as he tried to block it out with his wings. Preoccupied as he was, the rain of swords that fell around him and sprouted into a cage of writhing steel came as a complete surprise, leaving him unprepared for the torrent of forking lightning that quickly reduced that same steel to molten slag.

The massive lightshow from above forced the assault group to look away – but I could see it all, poised as ‘I’ was in the stark black shadows of the attack. I could even smell the ozone and the boiling steel as seventeen of my shadows, blades formed impossibly thin and swirling with my blood, rose up from the ground below the Cadre and struck where he was vulnerable, seeking soft targets and delivering their payload.

The assault only lasted ten seconds. Yet in that time we reduced the area containing Kokabiel to a ruin of molten steel and tormented earth.

And he walked out of it within seconds.

“That,” he declared, his wings smoking and missing feathers, blood trailing from cuts along his legs, his skin reddened from heat, my own blood boiling in his veins, “was almost noticeable.”

Then he moved, spears of Light seeking targets as his wings grew impossibly long and screamed through the air. Akeno and Rias had to abandon their positions in a hurry, taking to the air as I fell into my own shadow. Issei yelled as Boosted Gear blocked the spear but still sent him flying, his voice almost as loud as Irina’s cursing when Mimic’s extended length snapped.

The assault team had it worse.

Xenovia ran out of swords to block with when a full four wings bore down on her, Excalibur going flying as her left side faltered and suffered for it. Kiba had slightly more success with a wall of blades and timely duck, but still lost the battle for his footing in the resulting rush of air. Koneko and Donne both tried to evade, going over the incoming limbs, but realised their joint mistake when the wings came back around on a dime.

Both of our brawlers vanished momentarily from the fight as they were launched across the campus, raising clouds of dust where they landed on the journey.

“Did you honestly believe that by working together you could overcome the gap between us?” Kokabiel asked, sounding almost affronted by the idea. “I am  _ Kokabiel, _ you miserable excuses for warriors. And no matter how much you may try…” He raised his hands, and a wall of Light rose with them. “There is no comparison.”

Then the wall shot forwards and resolved itself into a nigh-solid face of spears.

Akeno and Rias both launched barrages of their own, but their attacks were buried under the weight of the onslaught and vanished. I could  _ feel _ the Light through my shadow, feel the way their passage shook the air with a sound like chirping birds, and I was already out of the firing line before I realised Issei was still in there.

By the time I turned my attention back there was just no time, and I watched Irina—the only person still close enough—skid to a halt in front of him and raise a silver shield in front of them.

She was smiling at him as the wave washed over them and carried on, reducing everything in its path to dust – including most of the school.

We stared – Rias, Akeno and I. For a few seconds we just stopped and stared at where the two had been.

“Two down,” Kokabiel noted.

He sounded bored.

_ “Make it three.” _

And that was when Donne landed on him.

The resulting plume of dust rose to the upper curve of the barrier, and it just kept coming because Donne just kept  _ going. _ The sound of fist-on-flesh was a constant drumbeat from within the cloud, and it rose to a crescendo just as green light flared from within. “NOW, TOUJOU-SAN!  **OLYMPUS SMASH!”**

The entire cloud of dust blew outwards in the pressure wave that followed, revealing Donne standing tall with his fist still outstretched as Kokabiel was sent rocketing upwards. Less obvious was the speck that came down to meet him, but I knew that hair anywhere.

Koneko slammed home a hammerblow that shook the air, and as the Cadre went down Donne rolled back, making room for the forest of steel that went  _ up. _

They didn’t bite deep – even though Kokabiel hit them hard enough to reduce the blades to dust, they didn’t have the kind of force that something like an Excalibur held. But they did  _ bite _ , and as Kokabiel was picking himself up the dust around him fell more slowly. “Aaa cuuurssse oooof sllloooownessss…” he began.

We didn’t find out how he was going to finish. Mostly because Rias dropped what must have been her most powerful attack to date on him like a vengeful goddess, just as Akeno’s magic suffused the iron dust surrounding him and turned it into a storm where every particle might as well have been from a railgun.

It didn’t work. He was still standing, his clothes utterly ruined now and looking the worse for wear, but standing and sneering and readying his wings for another blow—

—And that was when Xenovia flew from the debris behind him with all the grace of a striking owl, Durandal striking true.

Two black wings fell to the ground, and to my nose the smell of Fallen blood filled the air.

Kokabiel  _ stared. _

Xenovia turned to continue her attack and was suddenly blown away, only a second glance showing the blade of Light buried to the hilt in her stomach as she was launched with a massive  _ bang. _

Kokabiel kept staring.

He knelt, picking up one of his wings and examining it like he’d never seen one before.

There was an uneasy silence. We’d hurt him, now.  _ Truly  _ hurt him. Even through the inestimable  _ cauldron _ of emotions that were burning in my heart as I remembered the moment where Irina and Issei had vanished, I felt the tension that held us back.

This was the moment when we tugged the tiger’s tail.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Donne skid to a kneeling halt over Xenovia. There was a whole mess of red on his front that hadn’t been visible from the back, and it glistened in the green light playing over his face as he muttered something. Koneko was leaning on Kiba, her side stained red and his face dripping blood, both looking like they would grind their own teeth to dust.

Akeno and Rias hung still in the air.

“...I had thought that it would better suit my goals to take my time with you children,” Kokabiel spoke at last. “Rape, torture and horrid deaths to rile the Satans into war where the Fallen could  _ finally _ stand triumphant as we deserve.”

He looked up.

And the wing was  _ crushed _ in his hands.

“But I think I’ll just destroy you instead.”

The wind from his take-off buffeted both Rias and Akeno while blowing the rest of us off our feet as it conjured a thunderous roar, and by the time we re-focussed both my King and Queen were down on earth, their wings tattered and torn.

“Ashes to ashes, and dust to dust,” Kokabiel intoned, as the sky above him vanished behind a veil of spears. “Goodbye, Devils. May your blood ignite a new age of victory for my brethren.”

Then everything was Light, and my hand rose almost without my input...

-x-x-x-

_ Clink. _

-x-x-x-

**_A Void._ **

**_A Space Absent of All Things._ **

**_The Truest Essence of the Power of Destruction; Extinction._ **

**_THE END._ **

All these things and more flowed through my soul even as my body flowed into my shadow and my shadow poured back into me – and as the storm settled...

_ I. _

_ Became. _

_ Power. _

I looked up at the Light, and with a burning of my left eye the space separating the spears from our battleground stretched into infinity. Kokabiel looked down in open surprise, and I looked back up at him with open  _ malice. _

My right eye burned – and suddenly the infinite space between us and the spears was twisted, so that every downward path spiralled inward.

Kokabiel barely had time to recognise what had happened before my left eye loosed its grip, and the entire sky’s worth of Light spears crashed down on their maker with the noise of all the world’s china falling on a tesla coil.

He survived, of course. It was his own power and he dispelled most of them besides. But a few  _ had _ landed, and that was the most important thing. Because he  _ knew _ they had landed. He  _ knew _ I had just turned his own power on him.

And  _ I _ knew that it would  _ really piss him off. _

I threw my arms wide and  _ smiled. _ My skin had faded to a chalky white, and I was now garbed in abyssal black  _ shitagi _ and  _ hakama  _ beneath a pristine white  _ haori _ , but that was all a background thought as I called out to the heavens in a voice that echoed in its own shadow.  _ “I will dedicate here my life, an existence beneath the Evil God’s Eye smeared in blood and obscured by shadow.” _   
I inhaled took a deep breath – then I  _ roared.  _ **_“Balance Breaker — Visions of the Old Blood: Abyssal Distortion of the Evil Eye!”_ **

…

In retrospect, I was perhaps less concerned with becoming Kokabiel’s sole target than I should’ve been. In my defense, nobody had told me that the blood of a Super Devil was so... _ intoxicating _ .

The Cadre was almost on me by the time I came back to myself,  _ screaming  _ from the sky with a blade in either hand and going for my throat. It was child’s play to slide around him, my body like water as I flowed behind his strike and caught him in the moment of striking at nothing at all.

So many options. So many _possibilities..._ but the one that called to me was beating _just_ _under his_ ** _skin_** _._

I had sunk my fangs into his left bicep almost before I knew it. The crimson liquid that spilled forth didn’t smell or taste like blood so much as it did liquid gold, and it would have been the most energising thing I had ever partaken of a minute before.

Now, it was like eating stale McDonald’s after a prime rib steak.

_ But that didn’t stop me. _

I pulled on the Life that rushed in the Cadre’s veins, draining all that was stored in the arm I’d latched on to before his right-hand blade came around to pierce my eye.

My right eye burned.

The blade...didn’t  _ vanish. _ It just transitioned from one spot to another as things do when they travel through space, but in a slightly unorthodox fashion.

Still, it did much better in Kokabiel’s shoulder than it would have done in me. In my opinion, anyway.

To his credit, Kokabiel dissolved his sword before it could do more than pierce his flesh deeply enough for him to bleed. That said, a death by exsanguination was a death all the same, and if I could pull that off—

**_BA-BUMP_ **

I clutched my chest and stumbled back from Kokabiel, heart racing as my higher-order thinking came back online. I could feel the cycle, soul-body-shadow, shadow-body-soul, that was pushing me so much further than I could come alone – and more importantly, I could feel it  _ falter. _

The power flooding my being was destabilizing. I had anywhere from maybe forty seconds to no time at all before my Balance Breaker collapsed, and probably me with it. The urgency of the situation sobered me up almost immediately. 

Well, that and the fact that Kokabiel had gripped my head in the hand that  _ wouldn’t _ get him either a lot of stronger-hand jokes or an award for Mummy cosplay right now.

“INSOLENT WRETCH! I’LL DRAIN MY BLOOD FROM YOUR BODY MYSELF!”

I could see my eyes reflected in the madman’s own. My left had turned an icy blue, iris and pupil both, while the sclera of my right had turned jet-black to frame the iris’ burning red. It was almost hypnotic.

Especially the way they glowed as I called up everything I had. “Not on your life, you mangy crow!” I spat, before unleashing what part of me knew to be the third and most devastating power of Abyssal Distortion on the monster before me.

There wasn’t a proper word for the sound that followed. If Cthulhu stubbed his toe and ran the resulting sound through autotune, then someone dropped the speaker down a mineshaft, it might have him close...but there was simply no proper way to name it.

But what it was closest to, was a  _ shriek. _

A crushing spiral of crumpling spacetime ground against the aura of sheer power that perpetually sheathed Kokabiel’s very being. For the first time in this entire battle, a look of panic crossed the Watcher of the Stars’ face.

But it only took a second for me to realise this wouldn’t be enough.

The gap between us was too wide. The zone of swirling spacetime that had been supposed to crush Kokabiel out of existence collapsed without him, the only toll it took being the wholeness of the Cadre’s wings. They were crumpled and distorted, bones jutting out at awkward angles, some parts bare of feathers entirely.

Even if I’d failed to kill him, Kokabiel wouldn’t be using his wings again any time soon.

Which was good, because my Balance Breaker had collapsed from overuse...and I soon followed it, tipping over to begin my journey to the ground.

A journey that was quickly postponed.

I felt the hand close around my throat as Kokabiel’s one good arm lifted me high, my fading vision flooded with the burning in his eyes as I felt the flesh under his fingers start to smoke. “Have you ever wondered how it feels to burn in the sun,  _ parasite?” _ he asked, biting the ends off his words and hissing in between. Whether that was the anger or the pain I didn’t know. “Well consider this my lesson for the younger generation.”

Light. Burning, burning Light that tore through me like a shadow. “Rodents like you,” he sneered from beyond the pain, “should stay in your  _ fetid _ shadows.”

I couldn’t scream. The hand on my throat had burned it too much, the smell of my own charred flash filled my nose.

But I could still  _ hear. _ “GET YOUR HANDS OFF GASPER-SENPAI! BOOSTED GEAR:  **_EXPLOSION!”_ **

I could only imagine the look on Kokabiel’s face when that punch slammed home.

Something had pried me from Kokabiel’s grip, because instead of going along for what must have been a hell of a ride I fell down onto something solid. “Hang in there, Gasper-senpai! I’ll get you to Argento-san!”

My eloquent response was to make a choking noise, spit out a glob of charred esophagus and blood, then pass out.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

**Asia**

God, this really fucking hurt.

I’d had to make my own way to Kiba and Koneko, since both of them had collapsed partway into Johan’s big moment and Xenovia was busy getting ready. Since Kokabiel had fucked me up pretty good during the time when I was in CQC with him, that had consisted of walking my torn-up torso on torn-up legs across the torn-up ground to my torn-up allies. I was never good at using Twilight on myself in combat, and I still hadn’t got the hang of fighting and healing simultaneously at any real applicable level, so rather than waste time on my own injuries I dragged my ass to the downed Devils and got to work.

Twilight Healing works on all races. No matter the patient, if the wound is in Twilight’s purview I can heal it. It’d probably work on Dragons if I could find one.

And in the case of Devils, it can heal wounds made by Light.

With that purged from his system Kiba was able to get up and moving again, but he spent a long few moments looking back and forth between Johan, Rias and myself before I waved him on. “She’ll be with you in a moment, just  _ go!” _

The blond was gone a moment later, and I turned my attention back to the white-haired figure in front of me. She was... _ not _ as well as Kiba.

The Knight had taken a few blows but nothing major. It was only the accumulated cuts from such potent Light weapons that had downed him, really. Koneko, on the other hand, had a stab wound in her side, some serious bruising and a whole lot of blood loss.

Seeing how she didn’t have that much blood in the first place, this was less than ideal.

For the thousandth time in my second life I wished people would just bleed into buckets. It would make my job so very much easier. Still, at least I’d dealt with this problem before.

One hand pressed down on Koneko’s wound, the stab of guilt for her pained grunt stifled by years of conditioning, just like the nauseating smell of blood that suffused the surrounding air. The other pressed its crystal ring into a patch of fresh blood, the glow of my spell-circle appearing even as I closed my eyes. “For the life of the flesh is in the blood, and I have given it to you on the altar to make atonement for your souls; for it is the blood by reason of the life that makes atonement.”

There wasn’t a whole lot of blood around where Koneko lay. She had lost the majority of it near the school building, which had been obliterated, or in the sky when she clobbered Kokabiel, which meant it was gone with the wind.

But what blood she’d lost since collapsing pulled inward along the ground, the circle that hovered over her wound barring entry to anything but the crimson lifegiver as it returned home. Once the last drop vanished Twilight Healing sealed the wound, the burning Light that infected it purged by a light that was more kind than anything I could credit myself with should be.

Amber eyes looked up at me – but they were bleary, and the paleness of her face told me she was done for now. “You rest here, Toujou-san,” I muttered, swallowing the pain as I stood. Looking over at Kokabiel, I was just in time to see his twisted figure knocked aside – and the small shape that fell from his grasp into the arms of the Red Dragon Emperor.

**—huntpreyweaknesshuntpreyweaknesssmellbloodkillpackarehurtinglitterishurtingmateishurtingvengeancehunthimpreydestroy** **_kill—_ **

**“We’re almost done here.”**

A fun fact about Senjutsu. The more closely your spirit is aligned with that of nature, the greater the ease with which the power flows.

Unfortunately, in this world, nature isn’t very friendly. In fact, you might well say it’s downright hostile.

Usually that was a problem. But today?

Today, host _ ile wasn _ **_’t a problem at all._ **

**My look over Johan was the work of a moment as Issei arrived, and Twilight Healing shone like a star on my hands. This one was my brother – my pack, my one to defend. My burning rage at what was done to him was more than channel enough for nature to lend its aid in healing.**

**He wasn’t completely fine when I moved on. But he was alive and functional, and that would do for the next minute.**

**_I couldn’t say the same for Kokabiel._ **

“So the little healer who thinks he’s a warrior wants to avenge his fallen comrade,” **the Cadre sneered, peeling himself up off the ground where he’d been left lying in the wake of Issei’s attack.** “I think I’ll make you heal my wings before I kill you. You wouldn’t be the first Sacred Gear wielder I’ve broken.”

**He still held blades in both hands. Even though one arm was useless, its crippled fingers clutched the weapon like a vice. He had nothing if not willpower.**

**But that just made him strong prey.**

**Touki was my armour as I stopped the blade with my arm, giving up nothing more than skin and blood.**

**Touki was my vessel as I stepped forward inside his guard, the ground cratering beneath my foot from the force.**

**And Touki was my weapon as I punched that motherfucker with all the strength I had.**

**The right arm of my coat disintegrated under the force that moved within it, while before me and behind me the resulting shockwave tore gouges from the earth that were the equal of our earlier joint bombardments. There was no dust because it had already been blown far away, and the only piece of debris with any real mass left to it was Kokabiel, who hit the remaining school building and turned it into matchsticks with his passage. The sound alone was a weapon that could cripple a normal human, a cataclysmic roar of an arboreal groan. At the volume it had reached, it almost sounded like a scream.**

**The wood of that building had been dead for many seasons now. But as I leapt forward, I felt it, and through the earth I gave it new life.**

**The amalgamated mass of flinders that pulled together into a massive arm and beat Kokabiel into the ground held him long enough for me to close the barrier-wide distance I had thrown him, before a massive Light spear burned it all away.**

**It was just as well. I needed the sky above him clear anyway.**

**The grass sprouted at his feet, drawing the Cadre down as I descended feet-first, and I pulled in my knees for landing – only to find that Kokabiel didn’t much care for grass, since he easily ripped his way free and swung a massively extended sword through the sky toward me.**

**I sank deeper into the link as my Touki hit a new high, giving me the strength I needed to grab the impossibly sharp, burning blade and pull myself along it, accelerating my descent and guiding me right to target. The smell of roasting skin and ozone filled my nose as I went down.**

**I hit him like a missile, the furrow he carved as he was forced down and backward throwing up a mountain’s worth of dust while I hissed out the pain in my hands and torso from where the blade had touched. A Cadre’s Light was really nothing to mess around with.**

**That didn’t stop me from leaping after him again though, and Kokabiel’s tumble wasn’t quite finished when I caught up with him, slamming two fists down from overhead to try and embed him in the dirt. The shaft of a spear intercepted, propped up beneath the earth and his one good arm to hold me off. Growling, I raised my arms again, but found my second attempt impeded by the spear that lengthened into my gut.**

**He had formed a spear in the grip of his useless hand as it lay limp but pointed towards me.**

**Frankly, that just pissed me off.**

“Argento-san! Clear the way!”

**It was Hyoudou that had spoken. I could feel him through the earth as my connection with nature grew stronger on my pain and blood. “I’ve got him!” I shouted back, reaching down to the spear and grabbing hold to** **_rip_ ** **it from my side. I could heal it later, for now I needed to move so I could rear up my leg and** **_smash_ ** **it down on the bastard’s kneecap.**

**The fucker twitched it. I lost sight of him in the resulting tower of earth and stone that became powder, growling my displeasure as I felt him move away.** “Argento-san! Please, we have to work together!”

**“HE’S MINE!”**

**He hurt my friends in the churches, he hurt my friends** **_here_ ** **, he hurt my** **_brother_ ** **.**

**_HE HURT XENOVIA._ **

**“SAINT FIACRE’S GARDEN!”**

**The ground** **_cracked._ ** **Seeds that had laid buried and dead for hundreds of years sprang to life as nature answered my call. Trees sprouted to unnatural heights with branches and roots that waved like limbs as they creaked in the way of ancient timber, vines unrolled from high canopies to coil like snakes, the grass grew knee-high and hissed without a wind.**

**In seconds the whole environment of Kuoh Academy became overrun with nature, the smells of a dozen floral eras filling the air, and everything within it became my domain.**

**“COME OUT HERE YOU HALF-CRIPPLED STAR FUCKER!” I bellowed, launching myself after his signature as the foliage guided my path. “I’M GOING TO BEAT YOU INTO FERTILIZER AND FEED YOU TO MY GARDEN!”**

**He was just ahead now, and I pulled my fist back for a blow—**

**—Then suddenly halted, all my momentum lost in an instant. “What…?”**

“I hadn’t expected to find a Sage here, of all things,”  **Kokabiel’s voice sneered, the Fallen stepping out from around a tree.** “Maybe you might have been something in a few years. But as it is…”  **There was an odd sucking sound.** “...You’re just another beast.”

**I felt the spear pull out of my back** (just below the heart, perfect shot, fatal in 50, 49, 48, 47...) **, and managed to stay standing for a little bit more before my knees collapsed.** “You couldn’t even tell that I left a decoy signature and hid my own,”  **the Cadre continued.** “Honestly...what a poor Exorcist.”

_“DONNE!”_ **A familiar voice reached my ears, even as I felt Johan’s signature slowly rising from the weak pulse it had been to a grief-stricken, throbbing roar.**

**‘...Dammit…’ I thought to myself, ev** en as the channel faded, my own waning life-force unable to sustain my connection to the earth.  _ ‘I fucked it up.’ _

“You’ll take long enough to die for me to take care of the other trash,” Kokabiel sneered, “longer if you can at least manage to heal yourself. Try not to pass away before you can undo the damage you useless brats have caused.” The Cadre paused, then shrugged his operable shoulder. “Or do. I’ll just hunt down the bearer who comes after you.”

He began to walk away, then paused. “And by the way...that  _ is _ three down.”

He turned and scowled at the battered array of fighters that were squaring up for their last stand. “Or it will be, once I remove that annoyance.” He clicked his teeth. “At least I got the other one.”

_ Schlick. _

“I meant to let you take another few steps,” a familiar voice commented, “but Asia would never let me miss a line like that.”

The figure of Irina Shidou, the remains of her cloak wrapped around her in red-stained bandages, faded into sight from thin air. In her right hand there was the hilt of Excalibur Mimic, the chakram it had formed stuck deep in Kokabiel’s back across the spine. In her left hand, there was Excalibur Transparency.

As pounding feet drew closer, Irina leaned forward, and only Kokabiel and I heard what she said next. “Love conquers all, jackass.”

And then there was Xenovia, and Durandal, and a simple, windy  _ swish. _

Kokabiel’s body thumped to the floor.

His legs followed a moment later.

“...What a mockery of a fate,” the Cadre sighed. “Two thousand years of battle and I’m laid low by  _ children.” _

There was a moment of silence. Then, he started to laugh.

It quickly grew to a crescendo, a mad, screaming laughter that tore the air and dragged claws down our eardrums. “TO THINK OF IT!” he cried. “THE WATCHER OF THE STARS BROUGHT SO LOW!” The laughter, if anything, only got louder.

“You were brought _ low _ when you fell from God, Kokabiel,” Xenovia spat, Durandal sliding into the ground as she leaned on the holy blade for support.

I suddenly felt my stomach (or what parts of it Kokabiel hadn’t run through, anyway) drop as the mad Cadre’s eyes rolled down to Xenovia and I knew  _ precisely _ what he was going to say. Yet there was nothing I could do but bleed as he howled. “FELL FROM GOD?! I NEVER FELL FROM  _ GOD, _ GIRL!  _ I FELL FROM THE HEAVEN THAT HE LEFT BEHIND!” _

There was a moment of incomprehension. Then, understanding –  _ horrified _ understanding, began to dawn all over as I  _ felt _ the leaden weight of truth slam home. “GOD IS DEAD!” Kokabiel declared, his mad laughter resounding in the heavens. “AND THIS WORLD WILL GO DOWN WITH HIM!”

Not a word was spoken as he laughed...but it only made it easier to hear the way the laugh ran down, the sound changing tone until the final note was a choking sob. “God is dead,” the Fallen sighed. “And for that, we’ll all fall, in the end.”

One final breath in the forest...

And the Watcher of the Stars lay dead.

Xenovia and Irina’s eyes all turned to mine.

And all I could do was bleed.

 

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 

**「KOKABIEL」: DECEASED**

**{PREY SLAUGHTERED}**


	9. Chapter Eight: Come Rain or Come Shine

**Chapter Eight: Come Rain or Come Shine**

**Gasper**

From where I knelt under the night sky and swaying leaves of green, I stared. I stared at the corpse of the man who had, moments before, been as a natural disaster given focus and malice. Now? He seemed so...small. Where once he was a mountain, now...he was nothing but a corpse.

I shakily got to my feet, massaging my throat, twice abused by Kokabiel and my own wail of grief at the thought of losing my brother once again. With an uneven, shambling gait, I made my way towards where a blood-soaked Donne stared at Xenovia and Irina with a helpless expression on his face.

I could smell the fresh, bitter tang of my brother’s blood even through the aroma of Kokabiel’s quickly drying ichor. Before his last moments, I’d been considering draining his corpse, perhaps saving some of his blood for later, but now? The idea left a bitter taste in my mouth. All I wanted to do was make sure that my family, both Devil and not, was safe, then collapse into a bed. Preferably for several months.

As I reached Donne’s side, I cleared my throat. Three pairs of eyes snapped to me as I spoke. “That was fucking  _ awful _ ,” I rasped, “but we did it. We all survived, and we took the mad bastard down.”

“...I guess we did,” Donne agreed after a moment, grinning a wan grin. “You did good Jo...Gasper-san.” He turned back to Xenovia and Irina. “And you two...I don’t think I have enough time to say ‘well done’ as many times as you deserve.”

“Indeed you don’t,” Xenovia agreed, blinking her way from whatever state had befallen her with Kokabiel’s reveal and kneeling to press her hands over the wound in Donne’s chest. “You’ve got two major wounds to heal.”

Donne was already looking pale. “Right. Sorry.”

Twilight Healing was nowhere near as bright as usual when he placed shaky hands over his wounds, his eyes closing in focus as the holes in his torso began to seal. “Gah, this always sucks…”

“Then stop getting stabbed,” Xenovia said simply, holding his hands in place when they seemed like they might slip.

“Seriously,” Irina sighed, “you’re always so reckless when you start using Senjutsu. You’re no good as a team leader when you’re going off like that, you know?”

“I know,” Donne groaned, lifting his hands away and regarding his own torso to see the blood-caked but unbroken skin beneath. “Sorry. I just…”

“I know  _ exactly _ what you ‘just’,” Irina said wryly. “And ‘just’ isn’t going to matter if you get yourself killed.”

Donne sighed, his head thumping against the ground. “...I know.”

A few seconds of collaborative effort on the parts of Donne and Xenovia had him propped up against a tree, sitting mostly straight. “Alright then,” he declared, clapping his hands with all the force of two slightly soggy kittens falling over one another. “The Argento Emergency Clinic is open for business. Patients should be advised that they have about ten minutes to get their asses over here before I keel over and don’t wake up for a week.” He turned to me. “You first.”

I made to protest, but I was cut off by my own body belying my bravado, going to one knee as my left leg gave out abruptly. “Fuck,” I grunted, before spitting out a glob of charred blood. 

What remained of dignity well and and truly shattered, I looked at the Exorcist trio. “...Could I get a hand? I think I used up the rest of my energy getting over here.”

I was a bit surprised when it was Xenovia who wordlessly grabbed me beneath the shoulder and manoeuvred me into Donne’s reach, but Donne was just smiling quietly to himself as he reached out and laid his hands gently on the new-grown skin of my throat as they began to glow. “Now, Gasper-san, do you have medical insurance?”

In spite of myself, I chuckled. “Yeah, but I doubt the Church will accept the ‘Black Pentagram and Sword’.” I shook my head. “The Lady Levia-tan shouldn’t be allowed to view television from the human world; it gives her  _ ideas _ .”

_ “Humans _ shouldn’t be allowed to watch television,” Donne declared. “It rots the brain, and what’s worse you don’t even have fun as it does.”

I fixed him with a deadpan stare. “Sure. Tell me that again when  _ Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure _ gets an anime adaptation and we’ll talk.”

“Now that’s just not playing fair,” he complained, moving one hand from my throat to rest over my heart and closing his eyes for a moment.

I snorted.  _ “You _ of all people should know how I feel about absolutes.”

“Yes, I suppose I should,” he said softly, opening his eyes and leaning back again with a sigh. “Well, you’re not gonna fall apart in the next few minutes, and none of your major bodily systems are compromised. Unfortunately, I can’t fix fatigue, and some of the deeper-rooted stuff I won’t be able to handle until I’ve had some rest.”

I patted my brother on the shoulder. “Don’t think on it. If you weren’t here, I’d probably be in a coma because of that stunt I pulled, and that’s me being  _ optimistic _ .” I struggled to my feet. “Now, if you can spare the energy, I think my King and her Queen need the most healing next.” 

Xenovia and Irina both rolled their eyes, and Donne managed a second of an affronted look before it collapsed into a sheepish grin. “I think I can handle that.”

I dusted off my pants, gave Xenovia a grateful nod, then spoke. “Well, since they’re not in any state to say it, I’ll say it for them. We’re in your care, Asia-sensei.”

After Donne started his work on Rias and Akeno, who were helped over to where he was sitting by Issei and Kiba, I stumbled over to where my adoptive little sister was stirring. A sizeable gash in her clothing marked the place where a wound had used to be.  _ ‘Thank the Maō for White Mages and caring Scotsmen.’ _

I knelt beside Koneko, and took her thin hand in mine. Her eyes fluttered open blearily, then fixed on me...or more specifically, my neck. Her other hand rose to shakily brush at patches of soreness where Kokabiel’s fingers had dug in like the jaws of a vise not thirty minutes before.

“Gasper...nii,” Koneko said in a voice just above a whisper, “you’re  _ alive _ .”

In a flash of movement, the snowy-haired Rook had wrapped both arms around me and had buried her face in my shirt. Even as twin patches of wetness spread on the front of my torso, I could hear Koneko repeating those same two words like a mantra. Like if she let go, or paused for breath for even a second, I would disappear. I couldn’t begrudge her this in the least, so I returned the embrace.

We simply sat there for a time, clinging to one another like lifelines, uncaring of the implications of two people embracing one another like this. We both needed this comfort, this reassurance, and damn anyone who’d draw any unwarranted conclusions from that. 

All too soon, however, Donne had done what he could for Rias and Akeno and, from the the way she felt to a cursory look with my Blood senses, Koneko could use some help replacing the amount of blood she lost.

Koneko let out a surprised squeak as I stood up without letting her go. Probably not the best idea for someone as injured as me, but I’d be damned if I let my sister walk to Donne after losing so much blood. From the look on her face, I knew that I’d have to do something to make it up to her, but I didn’t care. It was the right and responsibility of an older brother to spoil and embarrass his little sisters in equal measure, after all.

As I tottered back over to Donne, it was Irina who moved to help me, this time. “That was really something you pulled off near the end there,” she commented, putting one arm under mine and taking on a large part of Koneko and I’s combined weight.

“Yeah,” I chuckled without any real mirth, “fat lot of good it did, though. I managed to what, cripple his wings? I was  _ trying  _ to crush him out of existence.” I closed my eyes and exhaled heavily. “It just goes to show how far I have left to go…” A rueful smile crossed my face. “I suppose that’s what I get for having such an outlandish, cliché ambition.”

Irina eyed me for a moment, then chuckled. “Wow. You two really are alike…” She shook her head. “Well, I don’t think I could call anyone’s ambition cliché after I saw what they did to a ten-wing Fallen.”

I laughed wearily as we approached Donne. “Well, it’s no Shirou Emiya ‘hero of justice’ shtick, but it’s still pretty fucking cheesy.” My expression sobered. “I just want us,” I gestured to my Devil household, “to get strong enough that, no matter who should come against us, we have more than a fighting chance of coming out alive and whole.” I gave a sad smile. “Arguably a  _ more _ naïve goal than becoming a ‘hero of justice’. But...” I sighed. “I can’t bring myself to regret it.”

“Why should you?” Irina asked, letting us down beside Donne and turning away with only a momentary pause. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting to protect the people you care about.” Her eyes went to Issei. “No matter what.”

I looked between the two. “Indeed, Irina-san. Indeed.” A tired grin crossed my face. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re the best shot that kid’s got at becoming a good man. Even if it means that my King and her Queen face disappointment, you’ve got my support.”

Irina gave me a smile, then clasped her hands behind her back and wandered off in Issei’s direction.

Koneko fixed me with a dry look. “Filthy shipper.”

I nodded to her firmly.  _ “You’re goddamn right I am.” _ I winced as mention of Him left my lips, but I didn’t let it prevent me from completing my sentence with the same intensity with which it’d began. My sister rolled her eyes fondly as I crouched and lowered her to the ground in front of a visibly tiring Donne.

“Hello again, Toujou-san,” he greeted her, sighing as he rested a hand on her brow and started up the familiar glow.

She leaned in to his hand, a mildly blissful expression on her face. Had Donne been anybody else from outside the Peerage, I’d have been clenching my teeth in irrational, possessive jealousy, but he was family. What kind of family begrudged contact between other members of the family?

…

Issei didn’t count; he was the embarrassing, creepy uncle that we’d keep locked in the basement if we could. 

I shook myself; now wasn’t the time for tangents about the dysfunctional group that I called family. Now was a time for rest, relaxation, recovery and—

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

_ THOOOOOOOOM. _

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

**Asia**

_ ‘REALLY?!’ _

It was a very complicated bouquet of emotions that flashed across my mind as Vali motherfucking Lucifer crashed down in the courtyard in full White Dragon Emperor regalia.

On one hand, I was mildly irritated at being interrupted when I was in doctor mode.

On another hand, I was still high on adrenaline and endorphins, so I had a manic urge to giggle.

And on the third hand which had no basis in biology but existed just to fuck with me anyway, I was scared out of my fucking mind because I was sitting next to half a Cadre with most of the people I gave a shit about in the world in close proximity, and a traitorous fight maniac with the power to kill a God had just landed fifty metres away to find we’d killed his target. (It was amazing how much more confident you could feel with a shit-ton of firepower behind you and a fist full of fuck-you beside you, compared to when you were beaten and battered and really just wanted to go to bed.)

Of course, I was really in no fit state to be reacting to emotional stimulus  _ at all, _ so all that really  _ showed _ of my sudden emotional influx was a narrowing of my eyes and a drooping of my head. “Today just keeps getting better and better.”

There was an incredibly loud silence in the few seconds following Vali’s arrival. Then everyone was busy.

Xenovia and Irina, bless them, both took guard stances in front of Koneko and I, two Holy Swords apiece standing at the ready. Rias and Akeno, whose wings were cleansed of Light and no longer bleeding but hadn’t yet been properly regenerated, found themselves behind Kiba, with Issei following a moment later.

Gasper was lurking behind us all, and the crawling sensation of the watching shadows prickled on the back of my neck. Koneko remained where she was lying in front of me; not that she didn’t  _ try _ to move, but even as worn out as I was I had enough strength in me to keep her still.

It felt like a long time, the period between Vali landing and the silence being broken. But it  _ was _ broken...just not by anyone we’d expect.

“It would appear my academy has been attracting several visitors lately,” a calm female voice mused from outside our collective line of sight. “As the student council president, I feel that this reflects well on the academy’s prestige.”

Eight figures appeared off to our sides, drawing everyone’s eyes as a magic circle faded away and revealed the Sitri Peerage. At their head, Sona adjusted her glasses with a flash of light. “But as one of this area’s overseers, I can’t help but feel it shows a distinct lack of respect.”

The helmet of the white Scale Mail was turned slightly towards Sona since she spoke, but it was still focussed mostly on the area near us. Or more specifically, I imagined, the two parts of Kokabiel that we were standing or sitting around. “I don’t answer to you, Devil girl,” Vali said simply. “Azazel told me to fetch Kokabiel. I thought I’d get to have a little fun…”

Vali’s focus was almost a physical thing as it swept across us one by one. I felt Koneko stiffen beneath my hand, saw the way Issei paled, heard the grind of Kiba’s teeth. When it was my turn, I met his gaze as best I could; I was too tired for an energetic response...and his awareness wasn’t anything like Nature’s, anyway.

I felt like he took note of that before his gaze returned to Kokabiel and he clicked his teeth. “But I guess he was too weak to be worth my time after all.”

“Time that you could better spend elsewhere,” Sona noted, a severe frown on her face as the Scale Mail’s helmet turned towards her once again. “If the Governor-General really did send you here, then you can tell him when you return that he’ll be hearing from the Underworld Government soon enough.”

Vali scoffed. “Whatever. I just wanted a good fight.”

His helmet turned again – and this time it fell squarely on Issei. I could see it in the way he almost buckled...and in the way he gritted his teeth and stood back up. “What? Have you got a problem, Vanishing Dragon?!”

...I wasn’t sure if I should award him mental praise or scorn for that display of mental fortitude.

A huffed breath came out of the Scale Mail’s helmet. “So you’re to be my rival...well, maybe you’ll be interesting after a while.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?!” Issei demanded, apparently running high on Vali getting him fired up.

_ A streak of white. _

“It means,” Vali said, his voice emanating from a point somewhere over my left shoulder towards the centre of our group, “that right now...you’d be no fun.”

Our mass tensing might have been a more threatening sight if we’d had much fight left in us, but as it was, by the time we turned around Vali already had the two parts of Kokabiel’s body draped haphazardly over his shoulder. “You’re meant to be my fated opponent for this latest cycle of the Boosted Gear and Divine Dividing,” he said. “So get strong, little Devil. You’re no use to me right now.”

Issei swallowed – I could hear it from where I sat. But he still spoke up. “Of course I’ll get stronger!” he declared. “After all, I have to be the best Pawn possible and become a High Class Devil – because after that, I’ll finally achieve my dream!”

His left arm, the one with the Boosted Gear shining on it, thrust forward with a clenched fist. “I WILL BECOME THE HAREM KING!”

...Scorn.  _ Definitely _ mental scorn.

“Toujou-san, would you…?”

Koneko’s hand rose up. My head went down. The sound of the facepalm echoed through the trees. “Thanks.”

Almost in tandem, the sound of Johan’s palm impacting the back of his junior’s head rang out. “Now isn’t the time, idiot. In fact, it’s never the time, but you’re like a fungus: incorrigible and impossible to clean up.”

Issei picked himself up off the ground, both hands held over the back of his head. “Please don’t use such big words, Gasper-senpai; they just make me feel smaller…”

Johan was unrelenting.  _ “Good. _ I’ve held my tongue this long, because I’ve been in an unusually good mood lately—but no more. I’m tired, I’m battered, and we just finished  _ killing _ a man. So for the love of the Lucifer’s blood,  _ please _ . Just stop, m’kay?”

Issei huffed, but nodded. “I guess it’d be okay for now…”   


Vali regarded them, then shook his head. “...Perhaps finding a worthy rival will take longer than I thought…”

Issei whirled around to face him. “Oi!”

Johan shot Vali a savage grin. “Give us time, Whitey. I promise you, between the idiot, myself and the punch-priest, you’ll be spoiled for choices – and sooner rather than later, if I have any say in the matter.” The weight of his statement was rather lessened by how heavily he was breathing, and the barely concealed spark of mania and panic in his eyes. That said, he put up a strong front, even in spite of whatever emotions were coursing through him.

“...Whatever,” Vali dismissed us. “Azazel will be troublesome if I don’t get back soon…” He looked around. “I thought Freed Selzen and Valper Galilei were meant to be around here, too…”

Several pairs of eyes glanced in the direction of the old school building, which was technically now the  _ only _ school building since the others were all various degrees of fucked. I considered several things very quickly, then cleared my throat. “Actually, White Dragon Emperor, they’re in our custody. The Church has jurisdiction over them, after all.”

Vali turned again. This time, his focus was distinctly heavier, and I resisted the urge to shift uncomfortably beneath it.

Xenovia and Irina were still on guard.

“Well, Azazel told me to collect anyone who had been working with Kokabiel and he mentioned those two by name,” Vali replied, taking a single step forward. The split-in-twain body on his shoulder flopped a bit, and part of me wondered why I felt the image was somehow  _ wrong. _ “So what’s to stop me, apart from the Church’s nebulous ‘authority’?”

I gave Koneko a single reassuring pat on the head, then grit my teeth in preparation for what I was about to do.

“That,” I declared, the fingers of my right handing sinking into the tree behind me like water as I gripped it hard. “Would.” I gathered my legs beneath me, despite the flaring pains and the feeling that I might be sick. “Be.” I pushed my right arm and both legs  _ down, _ ignoring the star that was born in my side and the fatigue that went all the way down to my soul as I forced myself to stand at my full five feet and three inches of height.  _ “Me.” _

Xenovia and Irina were both several inches taller than me. But I’d long since learned that when I was standing between them, presence could make up for the missing height – and so, I let my presence run wild, keeping my stance and expression straight despite the way my muscles screamed after only a second, my wrecked clothing, the blood stains all down my front and the mental fog that already ate away at my mind.

I held the eyeless blue gaze of the White Dragon Emperor’s Scale Mail for what felt like forever, and eventually I heard a snort. “Well, it would be a pain to have to look for them anyway.”

He turned away once more, the glowing blue wings of his armour spreading wide – but before he took off and gave us _ all _ a welcome break, a voice that must have gargled boulders and smoked whole forests rang out through the trees.  **[SO, ARE YOU IGNORING ME, WHITE ONE?]**

The flash from the jewel of the Boosted Gear didn’t escape anyone’s eyes. Nor did the similar flash from the glowing wings of the white Scale Mail.  **[SO YOU WERE AWAKE, RED ONE.]**

There was an uncertain silence from everyone else as the imprisoned Dragons within the two Sacred Gears conversed.  **[TO THINK THAT OUR LATEST MEETING WOULD BE IN A SITUATION LIKE THIS,]** Ddraig mused.

**[IT’S FINE,]** Albion declared, his voice in the same inhuman register but holding a different tone.  **[THESE THINGS HAPPEN. IT’S STILL OUR DESTINY TO FIGHT.]**

Vali was looking over his shoulder at Issei, who was keeping one eye on his Sacred Gear and the other on his destined rival. Their gazes seemed to lock as the Sacred Gears continued to talk.  **[YET DESPITE THAT, I FEEL NO HOSTILITY FROM YOU, WHITE ONE.]**

**[AND I FEEL NONE FROM YOU, RED ONE.]**

Some barely-felt tension fled us all as the air seemed to suddenly thin out from a stifling state.  **[IT SEEMS THAT WE’VE BOTH FOUND SOMETHING MORE INTERESTING TO DO THAN FIGHT,]** Ddraig noted.

**[WELL THEN, I SUPPOSE THAT’S JUST THE WAY IT IS,]** Albion declared.  **[WE CAN ENTERTAIN OURSELVES FOR A WHILE. HAVING A BREAK LIKE THIS ISN’T SO BAD.**

Vali turned away. His wings flashed one final time.  **[LET’S MEET AGAIN, DDRAIG.]**

Boosted Gear gave a last flash of its own.  **[AND HAVE A DIFFERENT KIND OF FUN,]** Ddraig agreed.  **[SEE YOU THEN, ALBION.]**

Barely another moment passed before Vali disappeared in a column of white light. It took me almost half a second to reconcile it with the memory that it was just his trail, rather than some teleportation mechanic.

The Longinus really were  _ such _ bullshit.

I made a show of looking around. “So, is there anything else? Another genocidal Cadre, a Longinus user, some kind of monster, maybe a killer rabbit?” There was a general consensus that pointed to ‘no’. “Right then. Goodnight all.”

I just about felt Xenovia catch me before I finished my fall.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

**Gasper**

For a long time, one corner of the ORC’s meeting room was left bare. Not for any particular reason – it just happened to remain empty.

Now, it held a large leather chair, almost unremarkable except for its history.

My best guess was that Kokabiel had kept the extravagantly comfortable seating arrangement in a pocket dimension, and it had fallen out upon his death.

Kokabiel might have been a genocidal, monstrous maniac, I mused, but  _ damn _ did he have good taste in furniture. I steepled my fingers before me, leaning forward in my chair. All I was missing was a desk to loom over and I could be Gendo Ikari — sans the desire to turn the world to Tang, of course. Tang tasted like shit.

…

I blinked, reviewing my train of thought. I must’ve been more nervous than usual; even for me, this  _ tang _ ent was excessively bizarre. Shaking my head to clear it, I regarded the source of my nervousness – namely, one Sirzechs Lucifer, sitting on one of the room’s couches and seeming quite at home. In spite of his genial smile, I could only imagine what was going through his head at this moment. 

I ran a hand through my hair.  _ ‘I  _ **_knew_ ** _ I should’ve stayed in bed longer.’ _

As nervous energy roiled within my veins like a volcano approaching eruption, the other members of the ORC began to file into the room. Koneko made a beeline over to me. Between the excessive size of The Chair and our...  _ compact _ frames, there was more than enough space for her to sit beside me.

I felt no shame in admitting that having the girl I saw as a little sister beside me did  _ wonders _ for my shaky nerves.

Rias was the next to arrive, and by the look of surprise on her face, she hadn’t expected her brother to come in person. That surprise quickly turned to resignation; clearly, she knew that her brother would set about embarrassing her as soon as he had a larger audience.

I looked at Koneko, a small smirk of anticipation on my face. Koneko’s facial expression remained passive, but I could tell by the way her eyes glinted mischievously that she was looking forward to the hilarity as much as I was.

While Koneko and I were communicating nonverbally, Kiba and Akeno arrived as one, both of them seeing Sirzechs and immediately becoming serious.

Kiba sketched a courtly bow even as Akeno curtsied, and they spoke almost as one.

“Lord Lucifer, what a pleasant surprise. Welcome.”

“Lucifer-dono, welcome. Please, let me get you some tea.”

Sirzechs chuckled and waved a hand. “Please, feel free to drop the formalities.” He winked. “After all, Grayfia isn’t here right now.”

Kiba gave a polite smile, while Akeno chuckled demurely behind a hand. “I’m sure we don’t know what you’re talking about, Lucifer-dono,” replied Akeno. “We’re simply treating our King’s older brother with the respect he deserves!”

At the mention of Rias, Sirzechs’ gaze snapped over to where she’d sunk into the chair behind her desk. “Ah, my dearest little sister; why have you grown up so fast and become so cold?” The Super Devil wiped a fake tear from his eye. “To not even greet your brother; whatever shall I do in the face of this heartbreak?”

A thin, crimson eyebrow twitched minutely. “My apologies,  _ Lord Lucifer,” _ Rias said deliberately. “I should not let my weariness get the better of my manners.”

Sirzechs let out a comical wail, falling from his seat and clutching his chest. “So  _ cruel _ , Ria-tan! Even a Maō like me can be felled by such tactics!”

As Sirzechs was gesticulating dramatically, Issei slipped in and sat down with more subtlety than I’d have thought him capable of. Perhaps my naïve hope that the pervert could become better, perhaps be redeemed  _ wasn’t _ in vain?

I was abruptly distracted from my musing by the sound of voices from outside the club room, which I could hear with my vampire hearing.

“But he’s a  _ Satan!” _

“And he’s also a big brother.”

“He’s a walking weapon of mass destruction who could stand equal with the Archangel Michael or even win!”

“So he’s good at his job.”

“Asia, you’re really far too calm about this.”

“Actually I think you two are just being really judgemental right now.”

“Asia, he is  _ literally the devil.” _

“Technically he’s only one-quarter ‘the devil’.”

“...Asia, if this is revenge for waking you up so early—”

“Revenge? For ripping me from my warm, peaceful sanctuary as I slept off the beating of a lifetime? For tearing away my serenity and throwing me into the cold, cruel world? For exiling an invalid from their rest?” There was a pause. “Now why would you  _ possibly _ think it was revenge, Irina?”

“...Just a hunch.”

By this time, it was taking every  _ bit  _ of my Blood Manipulation to keep a straight face. I felt like my lungs would burst from holding back this much laughter, but I persevered.

“You know what? I think I need some more waking up.”

“...Asia, where did you get that from?”

“This? Oh, I just borrowed it from Brother Spartito before we left the Vatican.”

“Brother Spartito...as in the head of the Choir, ‘Song of God’ Spartito?”

“Yes, that’s him.”

“...Asia, please, don’t tell me—”

“Well, I wouldn’t need a pick-up tune if you’d just let me sleep, would I?”

“Oh God. Xenovia, please, stop—!”

There was a click.

Then the sound of the chorus to Meredith Brooks’ ‘Bitch’ started blaring loudly enough to be heard from outside the building, while simultaneously the door to the club room burst open. It was fairly clear from the way Donne was crouching to the side that Xenovia’s arm, which had caused the doors to open, was intended to grab him by the collar.

Well,  _ that _ had backfired spectacularly.

I couldn’t hold it in any more; I fell off my chair and began to laugh hard enough to tax even my doubly-supernatural lungs. “Damn it, Asia-san!” I managed to wheeze. “Are you  _ trying _ to undo the healing you gave me yesterday?”

Donne smiled angelically. Behind him, Irina looked like she couldn’t decide whether to burst into tears or curl up and die, while Xenovia just looked defeated. “I believe in the healing power of music, Gasper-san.”

In the background, I could hear Rias mutter, “Maō preserve us; there really  _ are _ two of them.”

That said, he still clicked pause on whatever type of player he was holding in his hand, the familiar song fading away not long after ‘I do not feel ashamed’.

Sirzechs was staring at Donne, an expression somewhere between bemusement and pleased surprise on his face. “Well!” the Super Devil exclaimed, clapping his hands together. “That was quite the entrance… Asia-kun, was it?”

He looked past my brother and to the doorway, where Irina had just taken her hands off Mariko’s ears. “And who is  _ this?” _ he crooned. “You’re  _ much  _ too young to be an Exorcist, little one.”

Mariko shuffled her feet, looking over at where I was rising from the floor, still catching my breath. “Mariko,” the girl replied quietly, “Mariko Yukimura.” Visibly steeling herself, she bowed to Sirzechs and said, “I’ll be in your care.”

Sirzechs walked over to my  _ other  _ adoptive sister, and laid a hand on her head. “It’s nice to meet you, Mariko-chan. I’m Sirzechs, but you can just call me Zechs if that’s too hard for you to say.”

Mariko frowned minutely. “Sir-sexu.” She nodded firmly. “Nice to meet you, Sirsexu-san.”

I doubled back over, covering my mouth in an effort to contain the laughter. I mostly managed to succeed as I slumped back into The Chair.

Donne stifled a laugh as he reached down and ruffled her hair, while Irina slumped where she stood and Xenovia shook her head, one palm resting on her forehead.

“C’mere, Mariko-chan. I’m sure there’s space for you,” I said, holding out my arms. Needing no further encouragement, a small ballistic missile of childish energy and concern impacted my torso a what felt like Mach 3. Mariko hugged me tightly, an embrace I happily and wholeheartedly returned.

“Well,” Sirzechs began, “before we begin, would you take little Mariko somewhere, Gasper-kun?”

I felt Mariko stiffen and shake her head. I turned her around and set her between Koneko and me, patting her on the shoulder as I did so. “Mariko-chan, what do you think about that?” I asked gently.

A look of stubborn resolve covered her face. “I want to know what happened. That bad bird man helped the man who k-k- _ killed papa _ ,  _ didn’t he?!” _ I could feel her shaking, and I saw tears gathering in her eyes, but her determination remained strong. “I  _ need _ to know. Please, don’t send me away.”

I looked at Sirzechs with a helpless look on my face, as if to say,  _ ‘Look at her. You really want to keep her in the dark?’ _

I could see Sirzechs’ protective instincts warring with his desire to honor Mariko’s wishes and strength. When Mariko looked at him with teary eyes, though… his protective instincts crumbled like wet graham crackers.

“Alright, Mariko-chan,” Sirzechs said gently. “You can stay. If you want to leave at any time during the meeting, just speak up, and Gasper-kun will take you somewhere else, okay?”

At Mariko’s nod, the slender, crimson-haired Maō turned to Donne. “Now, Asia-kun. How about we start with your take on things?”

“There’s surprisingly little to tell,” Donne noted simply, crossing the room towards me as he spoke. “Kokabiel wanted to rape and kill most everyone here and kick-start a new war between Heaven and Hell.” He glanced backwards. His face was disturbingly tranquil. “We took exception to that.”

Sirzechs’ face was blank, expertly concealing the  **_seething rage_ ** that was no doubt filling him just as it was me. “I see,” replied the ex-Gremory. “Well.” He offered his hand to Donne. “As one of the Four Maō, I’d like to thank you for preventing the resurgence of war.”

Donne stopped. He considered the hand for a long moment – then he shrugged. “Fuck it – I was already going to hell.”

He reached out and took it, Sirzechs shaking firmly with an amused smile. “And as an elder brother, I’d like to thank you for helping my dear sister survive this battle.”

Rias’ blush was luminescent enough that, had she been outside, I’d have given it good odds that it could’ve been seen from the stratosphere.

Donne returned the smile in a way that made him seem rather bemused. “Thank you, Satan Lucifer,” he said, “but I’m not quite done yet.” He looked around the room as he released the Satan’s hand, noting that everyone was there. “Right. Miss Gremory, Miss Himejima, would you mind letting out your wings? I don’t know if they’re technically ‘there’ when they aren’t visible, so I have no idea if this will actually work like that.”

Rias, still red-faced, complied wordlessly. Akeno, however…I could  _ see _ her forcing down an innuendo-filled reply. Instead of making a comment about ‘exposing her delicate spots to a man of the faith’, she merely smiled widely and unfolded her wings.

“Normally I’d probably say a prayer about now,” Donne sighed, cupping his hands in front of himself as they filled up with green light.  “Suddenly all those hours of picking through the Bible for decent lines seem kind of silly.” The emerald shine hit an inexplicable peak, and Donne brought his hands to his mouth as he seemed to think. “...All will be well,” he finally whispered.

The room was flooded with green.

It was warm in the way of a blanket, hung by the fire and then wrapped around the shoulders by caring arms on a cold winter night. It felt like it  _ should _ be divine, but held none of Light’s burning judgement. It was healing and good will – nothing more and nothing less. As it sank down to my bones, I could feel its warmth wash away the remains of my injuries, the aching and scratching that had remained in my throat vanishing like it had never been.

I could see the way the gaps and tears in my King and Queen’s wings began to seal, supernatural flesh knitting closed and growing to cover the places where it wasn’t whole. Koneko sat a little straighter, Kiba’s eyes seemed just a little bit more focussed. Even Issei seemed to perk up.

Donne looked around once more when the glow had passed, and nodded in satisfaction. “There.  _ Now _ I’m done.”

Mariko looked around, childish wonder in her eyes. 

I rubbed my throat with one hand, marveling at how rapidly the soreness had faded. “Asia-san, you’re a miracle-worker. My throat barely hurts at all anymore.” I turned towards Sirzechs, who’d fixed me with a stare when I had spoken.

“Speaking of which, Gasper-kun,” the Maō addressed me, “how  _ are  _ the rest of your injuries? From what I understand, you were hurt severely in the battle.”

I rubbed my sternum absently, shooting Donne a glance out of the corner of my eye. I took a breath, then replied, “Well, I’d be lying if I said I felt completely recovered, but I have a feeling that the dull ache that’s covering most of my upper body is just as much psychosomatic as it is pain lingering from my injuries.” I shrugged. “In any case, I’m feeling  _ much _ better than I was after the fight, so I’m not gonna complain.”

Sirzechs nodded, his eyes closed and his hands clasped behind his back. “I’m glad to hear that.” His eyes opened and fixed on me once more, seeming to bore into my soul. “Now, on the subject of your injuries...let’s talk about what happened when you drank that vial of my blood.”

Irina blinked. “Wait, so that thing you did near the end, when the spears got so far away…”

I nodded. “I managed to activate my Balance Breaker for a short time by drinking the blood of a Super Devil. Apparently my Balance Breaker trades Forbidden Balor View’s spacio-temporal stasis abilities for spatial manipulation, among other things.” I fixed Sirzechs with a wry stare. “You’ve ruined me for anyone else, you know.”

Rias made a choking noise, Kiba turned his face away, Akeno clapped her hands over her mouth to stifle her mirth and all three Exorcists facepalmed as one. Beside me, Koneko turned a reproving gaze towards me. “...Gasper-hentai-nii.” I merely patted her head affectionately. Mariko, on the other hand, simply looked on in bemusement.

Sirzechs simply smiled. “Well, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t say that around Grayfia, but I suppose it’s good to know that I’ve still got it.”

I chuckled. “You’re as pretty as your sister and you know it.”

Our bantering was interrupted by what sounded like someone trying very hard not to laugh.

When we turned that way, we found that Kiba was leaning on the back of the sofa, almost doubled over with one hand over his mouth and his face going bright red. Sitting on that same sofa, Issei was frowning up at him. “Come on, Kiba-senpai, this isn’t a laughing matter!”

Kiba didn’t seem to agree, since he had to put his other hand to use sealing his mouth and almost fell over at the sudden redistribution of weight.

_ ‘This ought to be good.’ _ I arched a silent, questioning eyebrow at my blond brother in common sense.

...My blond  _ Devil _ brother in common sense.

Any response Kiba might have made was swallowed up by his laughter, and Issei seemed to take honest offense to that as he stood up from his seat. “Honestly, Kiba-senpai!” he started, putting his hands on his hips. “Isn’t this a bit too care-free?! Your girlfriend’s flirting with another man right in front of you!”

I paused for just a second. Then I burst out laughing. “Issei, Issei,  _ Issei _ . Kiba’s like my  _ brother!” _ I shook my head ruefully. “Honestly, I grew up around the Peerage; it’d be like dating a sibling, and that…” I grimaced genuinely. “I don’t think it’s unfair to find that a  _ bit  _ squicky, do you?”

“...Well, sometimes incest doujin can be really hot when they’re done the right way, but at the same time you get stuff like Oreimo, and it’s just…” Issei’s face twisted. “Gah, this could go either way…”

My eye twitched. “Well, it’s good to know you have  _ some  _ standards, however rock-bottom they may be…” I muttered.

“Perhaps I should have brought a camera today,” Sirzechs mused, probably too quietly for the rest of the room to hear. “Serafall might have forgiven my debt from last century’s poker game if I gave her a tape of this…” Speaking up again, he said, “Well, Hyoudou-san, since you’re up already, perhaps you can tell your side of the story?”

The story that followed was mostly the same as Rias’ telling, except it included what had happened to Irina and Issei. Basically, Issei had Boosted Excalibur Mimic in its form as a shield, which had saved them from being killed in the Light deluge but had still left them injured. With Excalibur Transparency concealing them from view, they had planned to hide and build up Issei’s Boost count until he hit full power, activated his Balance Breaker and came out of nowhere to tear Kokabiel a new asshole.

Unfortunately, the Boosts hadn’t got that high before Issei broke cover to save me, using up his Balance Breaker time and his Boosts in the single punch that sent Kokabiel flying.

I offered Issei a nod of thanks; heinous pervert or not, he  _ was _ a fiercely loyal friend, and I could respect that.

I got a smile in return. “It was no problem, Gasper-senpai!”

A quick circuit of the room got everyone else’s testimonies as well, including Irina’s of remaining under Transparency and trying to shadow Kokabiel throughout the fight, but getting delayed by the way he was being tossed about the place and, of course, the massive forest that now stood outside. She had caught up with him after he had already stabbed Donne, then had the perfect moment to disable him hand-delivered to her on a silver platter.

The final round-up point was a description of what had lead up to the fight, in its totality. From Donne and the other Exorcists’ information on the attacks and the Church’s efforts towards tracking the Excaliburs, or at least what they could share, to my own account of finding Freed. That ended up including the story of what had happened the first time Freed Selzen was in Kuoh, and the reason the Kuoh morgue was full of clergy.

We’d lost quite a few contractors during his first stint in the city. The fact that we had only lost one this time was an empty parody of a miracle.

Mariko had started off pale, when the subject had come up, and as the conversation progressed she only continued to pale. By the time the debrief was done, her complexion would’ve been right at home in my birthplace.

“B-but he can't hurt anyone anymore, r-right?” she asked plaintively.

Donne looked at her, and he smiled.

...It was funny. Though I could see the warm and caring expression on his face, at the same time I almost thought I could see another smile freezing like the arctic in his eyes.

“No, Mariko-chan,” he said simply. “He’ll never hurt anybody ever again.”

Sirzechs had listened in solemn silence as we gave him as much information as we had. Now, he leaned back a bit in his chair, shaking his head. “They will never cease to amaze me, the monsters that can be made from humanity. For every brilliant deed, it seems there’s always someone like this Selzen lurking…”

He let out a long sigh, looking up. “For what it’s worth, Mariko-chan, I’m sorry. Your father was killed because he made use of our services...but at the very least, I’m glad you’re safe.”

I patted Mariko’s back gently as she choked back tears. “We’ll be here for you, Mariko. I promise.” I turned my eyes to Sirzechs. “Now, I know in situations like this she’d usually go into foster care.” Even as the words left my mouth I could feel her stiffen against me. “But I really don’t think that would be the best thing for her. Is there any way you could help me get special dispensation to adopt her? I certainly have more than enough disposable income from all my contracts…”

Sirzechs considered me – and for a moment, he really  _ looked _ at me.

It was...an indescribable feeling, really. But maybe, if someone had taken me apart very slowly, leaving every single atom open for display, and then put me under an electron microscope, it might have come close.

It was over in the blink of an eye, and I was still processing that feeling as a small, but still proud, smile pulled at his face. “It’s almost hard to believe you were all just children not so very long ago…”

He sighed, turning to look at Rias fondly. “Where did my little Ria-tan go? You used to be so happy to see me and go around on my shoulders...now you’re fighting a Cadre?” He sniffed, brushing an imaginary tear from his eye, but the look on his face despite the acting was entirely sincere. “I’m so proud of you, Rias-chan.”

Somehow, in spite of the fact that Rias had scarcely stopped blushing from the very beginning of this meeting, I could tell when the redness of her face changed from embarrassed anger to embarrassed pride. “Thank you, onii-sama.”

“And all of you…” he continued, turning to the rest of us, “I’ve known you all since you were young, and I can scarcely believe you’ve come so far.” He inclined his head. “All of you...thank you, for being there for Rias-chan. And be proud of yourselves – you’ve gone above and beyond what anyone could have asked of you.”

Akeno bowed her thanks, while Kiba merely chuckled, an awkward smile on his face. Neither of us had ever been that good at taking praise. Koneko’s reaction, as usual, was almost imperceptible: a slight relaxation of the muscles that even I only noticed because she was leaning right up against me. Issei sat up a little straighter, but was also muttering to himself. “...Being thanked by buchou’s older brother is kind of like a blessing...but at the same time, he’s a damn handsome...but he’s also a Maou…”

My eye twitched as I resolved to ignore his muttering for my mental wellbeing as well as  _ his  _ physical wellbeing.

Finally, Sirzechs turned back to me, nodding firmly. “Well, since it seems my last gift is gone before the warranty, I think I can pull a few strings.” He looked down to the young girl beside me. “That is, of course, if Mariko-chan agrees?”

“C-can I? I don’t have to leave Gasper-nii?” The hope on Mariko’s face was almost too much to bear. 

I hugged her tighter for a moment. “I think that answer speaks for itself, don’t you?”

“Indeed,” Sirzechs agreed. “You’ll have the paperwork in a couple of days.”

Then, he smiled. It was a small, genuine smile, and for a moment, we weren’t in a room with a Maō anymore. No, for that short moment, we were just sharing space with another member of our crazy, noisy, bizarre family.

The moment passed after a short while, with Sirzechs turning his gaze to the three Exorcists that had been standing by quietly. “I know I’ve already thanked you, Asia-kun,” the Maō said, “but I think it bears repeating. All three of you stood with my sister, even after you had recovered the Excalibur Fragments and secured your prisoners. Exorcists standing back to back with Devils, putting aside the doctrine and laws of the Church so you could stop Kokabiel’s rampage…” Sirzechs smiled a bit wider. “It gives me a bit more hope that peace can truly happen.”

The three Exorcists all turned to look at one another. A silent conversation flashed back and forth, then Donne turned back to Sirzechs and favoured him with a wry smile. “Well, I suppose it is a nice sentiment, when you put it that way...though technically, I really don’t think we count anymore.”

Issei scrunched up his brow. “What do you mean by that, Argento-san?”

“I mean we probably don’t count as Exorcists anymore, Hyoudou-san,” Donne sighed. “Not when we’re going to be thrown out as soon as we get back.”

For the first time in several minutes, Kiba spoke up, an uncharacteristic force to his voice. “ _ Why? _ As far as I can tell, you three have performed above and beyond anything that the Church could have expected of you!”

Donne’s smile turned wan. “Ah, but the thing is we worked with Devils to do it. I even healed some. Now, if all of that had only been for the battle and investigation, we might be kept on though people would mutter, except that I walked into this room and healed everyone  _ again _ including…” He looked over at Irina, and his tone turned dry. “‘Literally the devil.’”

Donne shrugged, even as Irina turned red. “And of course, let’s not forget we all heard the big news.” He paused, over-dramatically tapping his finger on his chin. “I mean, consorting with dark elements is already heresy, but knowing that God bit the big one...that must be, like,  _ double _ heresy with extra blasphemy on the side.”

Xenovia and Irina both grimaced, and Donne sighed. “No matter if we succeeded here, the Church can’t allow people who know what we know to just stay around. We’re too much of a risk. So, when we go back, they’ll take the Excaliburs and throw us out on our ears.” He considered. “I don’t  _ think _ they’ll send the assassin nuns after us, but I honestly have no idea.”

Xenovia sighed. “Asia, I’ve told you before – the Sisters of the White Rose are  _ not _ a secret order of assassins. They’re just avid gardeners.”

Donne turned on her. “And I’ve told  _ you _ that I saw them carting dead bodies into their gardens to use as fertilizer. Besides, have you _ seen _ their Sister Superior?”

“Sister Ivanov is  _ not _ a former KGB assassin, Asia,” Irina opined.

“The woman’s six foot five, built like a titanium wall and I’ve personally seen her core an apple in mid-flight,” Donne rebutted. “If she’s just a gardener I’ll find one of those stupid hats and  _ eat it.” _

Rias had been listening intently as Donne described why they wouldn’t be part of the Church for very much longer, and by the time he finished his tangent a glint had appeared in her eyes. I sighed internally as she entered her all too familiar ‘recruitment mode’. Issei was lucky; he’d only experienced a small fraction of it, as he’d been reincarnated to save his life. But when she got the opportunity to really get going…

Well. Let’s just say that her frothing, eccentric passion wasn’t limited to displays about anime and manga.

“Well, Asia-kun, I may have a suggestion for you.”

Xenovia’s flat look at Donne had turned into a glower aimed at Rias when she started using Donne’s first name. When Rias attached the more familiar suffix as well, I almost felt like the Exorcist’s glare started emitting a baleful pressure.

Rias, perhaps in a show of confidence, or perhaps because she was so deep in ‘recruitment mode’ and didn’t notice, continued speaking in spite of Xenovia’s death glare.

Donne looked at my King, the look on his face making it clear he knew  _ precisely _ where she was going with this, but he motioned for her to continue anyways.

Rias gestured, a small crimson sigil appearing by her hand. There were three, almost simultaneous  _ clinks,  _ as one each of the Knight, Rook, and Bishop Evil Pieces fell onto her desk in a neat little row. 

“I would be more than happy to offer Peerage to individuals of such impressive skill and moral fiber.” She folded her hands and looked at the three soon-to-be ex-Exorcists, clearly attempting to gauge their reactions.

…

I was impressed. Rias had managed to make that sound reasonable and hold back her... _ excessive enthusiasm  _ to an almost unbelievable degree. Our little family really  _ had  _ grown.

At the moment when the three pieces appeared, all the Exorcists’ faces turned to stone. Utterly inscrutable, each one regarded the pieces with a silent attention that could mean almost anything.

Surprisingly, it was Irina who spoke first.

“...You know, when I was little, I always wanted to be an angel,” she said softly. “Mum and Dad told me so much about the Church and Heaven and God...I wanted nothing more than to be one of His messengers.” She took an almost hesitant step forward. “Even when Dad died on a mission from the Church, I swore I would become an Exorcist and carry on in memory of his faith.” Another step. “Even when Mum passed on and no-one could do anything about it, I had faith that she was in a better place.”

She reached the desk, and placed a single, slightly trembling finger on the Knight piece. It glowed. “...Ever since Kokabiel spoke, I’ve felt so...so lost…”

She paused, hunching over slightly, and turned back to Donne and Xenovia. Neither of them said a word, but Donne was smiling. It wasn’t a pleased grin, and it wasn’t very large. It was just a tiny, saddened smile, an expression of understanding. “...Right now, knowing that the thing my mother and father both died believing in was built on a lie...I don’t think I can stand to be anything like the me who believed in that anymore.”

Xenovia was a statue, hard and cold – but Donne just took a step forward and drew Irina into a gentle hug. It couldn’t help but notice that he needed to stand on tip-toes to do it. “It’s alright, Irina,” he said softly. “I know we were never what you held onto so tight.” His eyes flickered to Issei, and he drew back with another small smile. “You do us proud, alright? I didn’t spend so long twisting your mind around for you to come completely unspooled over a boy.”

Irina also smiled, the corners of her eyes glinting. “I will. And you take your own advice, as well as some of mine. You  _ know _ you’re thinking about it wrong.”

Donne shrugged slightly, stepping back to stand beside Xenovia as Irina drew herself up to her full height once more. “We’ll see.”

Irina turned around once more, picking up the Knight piece completely. She examined it for several long moments, before holding out her other hand. Excalibur Mimic flowed from her sleeve, winding its way along the outside and almost seeming to look up at her. She smiled. “Thank you, for being there for so long. But you know you can’t come with me now.”

The metal had no features, and no biological tells. But it still seemed to droop as it slouched back into the form of a shortsword, which Irina handed over to Donne. “...Make sure she’s taken care of, won’t you?”

“Like you even need to ask.”

Irina took a deep breath. Then, she turned to Rias. “...I think I’d like to accept that offer, Gremory-san.”

Rias smiled welcomingly. “I’m glad to hear it! I assume you would like to be my newest Knight, then?”

“Yes,” Irina agreed, nodding firmly.

“Well,” I interjected, “I for one would like to welcome you to the family, even if you’re not officially part of the Peerage yet.”

“Thank you, Gasper-san,” she said, bowing toward me and by extension the room in general. “I’ll be in your care.”

I nodded back to her, a small smile on my face.

Rias turned her eyes back towards Donne and Xenovia. “From the looks on your faces, I think I know your answers already,” Rias remarked wryly, “but as they say, ‘nothing ventured, nothing gained.’” She held up the Rook and Bishop.

From some of the things I faintly remember Donne telling me in my first life I was almost certain I knew what his answer would be. And based on her attitude towards my brother, I had a feeling that Xenovia would follow him to whatever end he might choose. 

A faint pang of envy stung me, but I shook it off. If anyone deserved that kind of love, it was my brother.

Donne inclined his head. “It’s a very generous offer, Ms Gremory...but as a very wise man once said, I would rather be a rising ape than a falling angel.” He looked up and smiled. “Humanity is the one thing…” He paused. “Well. It is one of only  _ two _ things that I have absolute faith in. I could no more willingly give it up than I could…” He chuckled. “Well, sprout wings and fly.”

Rias nodded, then glanced at Xenovia.

“I will follow my team leader,” the blunette said simply. “Wherever they may go.”

“You know,” I mused aloud, “I  _ still _ haven’t managed to get ahold of a single solitary piece of his work, after all this time. I’m half inclined to think it’s a curse.”

“Well REJOICE, young man!” Donne declared, “For I have brought the collection with me!” He chuckled. “I’ll help you pick one out to start with at some point.”

I rubbed my hands together eagerly. “Eeeexcellent.” I felt a mad cackle build deep within my gut, and, seeing no real reason reason to hold back, let it loose.

“Actually, I’d best do that soon,” Donne noted. “I’ll have to fetch them from the church if you’re gonna start reading them while I’m away, and our flight leaves in…” He pulled up his left sleeve, revealing a battered-looking silver watch. “Four hours.”

“Asia-nii, you’re not going to leave for good, are you?” 

I had spent roughly half this life around this Peerage, my family. In that time, I had been subjected to Rias, Akeno  _ and _ Koneko utilising pre-pubescent cute to get their way. I had thought myself largely immunised to that kind of assault by now, as evidenced by the fact that Koneko didn’t weigh the same as a small semi.

I gave Mariko’s puppy dog eyes even odds of stopping Trihexa itself in its tracks.

Donne actually seemed to slip a bit where he was standing, as if the cute had momentarily over-ridden his brain and he’d forgotten how to stay upright. Understandable, really. “Well, I hope not, Mariko-chan,” he said after a few seconds, when the slightly glazed look faded from his eyes. “But there’s always the chance the Church will be... _ enthusiastic _ about making sure Xenovia and I go away, so we might take a while to get back.”

Mariko looked at Donne, hope warring with doubt in her big, watery eyes. “You  _ promise? _ If you lie, you have to swallow one thousand needles!”

Donne considered her for a moment. Then he stepped forward, reaching up his neck as he went.

There was an oddly confusing swirl of white cloth in front of me – and when it settled, Mariko was standing just in front of me, Donne kneeling down in front of her as the too-long robes fluttered down around her tiny form. “I promise, Mariko-chan,” he said. “But I think I might have too much luggage to be taking back, since I probably won’t be able to resist the airport bookshop, so how about you keep this safe for me until I get back, okay?”

Mariko nuzzled the large, white cloak and nodded. “I promise!” She then darted forward to wrap Donne in a hug I was sure would be surprisingly tight.

Donne smiled widely, hugging her back for a long moment. Then he gently pushed her away, standing up. “Well, I didn’t actually realise we’d been going this long; if we want time to get packed properly, we’ll need to go and get ready.”

There were several seconds’ long pause, during which no-one in the room replied. Donne looked around with an eyebrow raised. “What? Have I got something on my face?”

I tried to resist—I  _ really _ did—but I couldn’t stop the words for any amount of trying. “Your tits are out.”

Donne blinked, and glanced down. Then he frowned. “Ah dammit. I forgot Koko-nuts shredded my space-expanded shirt.” He sighed, glaring lightly at the two prominent lumps protruding under his black t-shirt. “Replacing that’s gonna be a  _ pain.” _

_ “...Argento-san has oppai…?” _   


Kiba blinked. “Huh. Wasn’t expecting that one.”

_ “...Argento-san has oppai?” _

“...Thought you smelled female,” Koneko murmured.

_ “Argento-san has oppai?!” _

Akeno let out a chuckle. “My, my. You’re a clever one, to have us all fooled so easily. I’m impressed.”

_ “Argento-san has  _ oppai?!”

Rias slumped over her desk, and I could hear her muttering into her papers, her voice monotone and trancelike.  _ “Why does the universe do this to me?” _

Sirzechs simply nodded to himself.  _ “Definitely _ should have brought the camera.”

“WHY DOES ARGENTO-SAN HAVE OPPAI?!”

The entire room paused, then turned as one to Issei Hyoudou, who had once again risen out of his seat. “I MEAN WHY, REALLY?! I WAS SO SURE ARGENTO-SAN WAS A GUY! ARE MY OPPAI-SENSES FAILING ME?! DIDN’T I LEARN ANYTHING FROM PERSONA FOUR?!”

_ ‘Huh. Well, I guess he’s got  _ some _ taste, if he’s acknowledging Naoto…’ _

While Issei was up and ranting, Donne was laughing silently, hands pressed over...well, _her_ mouth as she backed away. Irina and Xenovia went with her, the former talking quickly to the latter as her fingers twitched towards the hilt of a sword that wasn’t there yet. Donne’s eyes met mine, and they glittered with an emerald light as she gave me a grinning nod.

When the door closed quietly behind them, Issei was still going. “...TRULY APPRECIATE THE GLORY OF OPPAI IF LIFE THROWS OBSTACLES LIKE THIS IN MY WAY?!”

The teen practically threw himself back into his seat, head in his hands. “Dammit...first I missed the childhood friend route because I became a Devil, and now I completely missed the true-gender subplot…? Did I waste all that time playing eroge…?”

...You know I had to do it to him. “Oh? I’m sorry, Issei-kun,” I said, barely containing my internal singularity of smugness behind a friendly grin. “Did I forget to mention that Asia-kun’s a girl? Dear me.”

Issei looked at me plaintively. “...Gasper-senpai, did I do something to make you not like me? ‘Cause I’m sorry.”

I chuckled darkly. “Oh, that’s a loaded question if I’ve ever heard one. But no. You should take me messing with you as a  _ compliment; _ if I really disliked you I’d be cold, polite and talk as little as possible.” I waved a hand airily. “You know, Issei-kun, I worry for you at times; sometimes it seems like you don’t even know I’m a guy!”

The look on his face was fucking  _ priceless _ .

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

**Asia**

“So, this is where we part ways.”

I was only carrying a single bag, a backpack with some tightly-packed clothes and a couple of books. The long case which served as the carrier for Excaliburs Nightmare, Rapidly, Transparency and Mimic, the pocket-dimension containment cubes we were issued by the Vatican that currently contained Selzen and Galilei, and everything else I’d need until I returned to Kuoh (assuming everything went according to plan and I  _ did) _ were tucked away in the inside pockets of my coat, which was hanging from my shoulder as Xenovia, Irina and I stood in the airport.

Xenovia and I were standing side-by-side, our backs to the terminal entryway, while Irina had her hands clasped together as she stood in front of us and tried her best to smile. “It seems so, Asia.”

I favoured her with a grin. “Well, if all goes well we should be back in a couple of days without the Vatican breathing down our necks...and if it doesn’t, we’ll send you postcards from whatever country we can find that has no extradition treaties with Italy.” I paused. “And no killer nuns.”

“Well, at least one of those will an easier condition to meet,” Xenovia sighed, while Irina shook her head and laughed. “There being no such thing as killer nuns after all.”

“I’ll believe that when you can prove it,” I told her, re-adjusting the coat on my shoulder and considering my friend.

Irina Shidou and I had met when Xenovia and I had already been together for several years, and she was assigned as the third member of the traditional Exorcist ‘trio’ group. The Church was very fond of trinities, and since Xenovia and I weren’t going to be parted for anything they decided to foist someone off on us and then leave us mostly be.

We got Irina, fresh from losing her father and on a mission from God.

Or, so she believed.

In the following years, I felt some small shame to say that I had turned a bubbly, open girl into a calculating, crafty young woman with a mind like a steel corkscrew. Oh, the bubbles were still in there, but usually it was rare to see. She was livelier around Issei Hyoudou than around almost anyone else I’d seen, Xenovia and I included.

Whatever had possessed her to latch onto her memory of a childhood friend so hard after her mother had died was beyond me. It could be anything from the will of the universe (cough _ Ishibumi _ cough) to spending so much time around Xenovia and I and finding herself wishing for a bond of her own.

I really hoped she’d find one – and if she thought it would be with Issei, then that was her call and I’d let her go.

...It was strange. I’d be seeing her again in just a couple of days, but standing here, I felt like this would really be ‘goodbye’. How peculiar…

“I suppose when we next see one another, we’ll all be different people,” I mused.

“...Yeah,” Irina agreed. “We will.”

There was a silent pause. Then Xenovia spoke up. “...With the time we’ve spent around these Devils...seeing how they fought...I have to admit that even if I hadn’t learned the truth about God, I don’t think I could have hated them at all.”

She reached forward, gripping Irina’s shoulder. “No matter what you choose to be, Devil, human or even Angel...I’ll look forward to seeing you again, Irina.”

...That was the most heartfelt declaration of friendship I’d ever heard from Xenovia. She wasn’t an open person, or a people person, or even really a talkative person, and Irina knew that well enough to hear the words for what they were.

Irina almost vibrated in place for a few moments, then leapt forward and wrapped both Xenovia and I in a hug. I returned it as best I could, and glanced over at Xenovia for a moment. She met my eyes, then slowly reached out with her own arms, encircling both Irina and I.

“...Thank you,” Irina said quietly, her voice wet with tears. “Thank you, for doing so much for me.”

I smiled widely, feeling the slight sting in my own eyes. “For you, Irina, it was no problem at all,” I replied.

The tannoy sounded, and I noted the alert for our flight. “Well, I guess it’s time for us to go.”

“Right…” Irina agreed, stepping back and wiping at her eyes as Xenovia and I prepared to leave.

“Go and get him, Irina.” Were my last words to her as we walked away.

“Oh just pop the question already!”


	10. Interludes: Avate Maria/In a Gadda de Avalon

**Avate Maria**

**Xenovia**

“...as such, this panel, before the eyes of God, declares that Xenovia Quarta and Asia Argento are to be hereby excommunicated from the Holy Order of Exorcists now and forever more. May God have mercy upon you.”

_ “May God have mercy upon you,” _ the rest of the room murmured in concert, dipping their heads and clasping their hands in front of them.

Well,  _ almost _ the rest of the room.

A crucifix-marked black mantle over a green cassock hid the otherwise-visible upper body of Dulio Gesualdo, as the white feather-like decorations at the collar mixed with his blonde hair and both served to hide his green eyes. He was seated near the back, slumped forward with his forehead pressed to his folded arms. Anyone looking at him could be forgiven for thinking he was asleep – Asia and I, however, knew that he was actually making silly faces at our ‘judges’ behind their backs.

Mostly because he’d been doing that for the entire length of the session and returned to his ‘sleeping’ position in the blink of an eye if someone turned towards him.

Despite the solemn occasion, I had found my composure tested by the constant display. Still, it would be unbefitting of an Exorcist to appear anything less than serious…

...Except, of course, I wasn’t an Exorcist anymore. Even though I stood in the Vatican, wearing my Exorcist’s uniform as my other had donned a t-shirt, jeans and her yet-to-be-repaired coat, I was no longer welcome in the House of God.

What a strange thought.

Apart from Dulio, only one presence distinguished itself from the forest of white robes and tall hats that filled the room – not that he could have possibly done  _ otherwise, _ of course. A figure that was truly larger than life, with musculature enough to build two normal men and have enough left over for a good-sized dog, Cardinal Priest Vasco Strada’s short white hair and wrinkled face belied the body that could truly be called a ‘Fortress of God’; indeed, he looked as much stone as flesh beneath his cassock, his stiff back and nigh-expressionless visage looming over all like the great sculptures of the Greeks.

Most everyone who had ever met the man could not bear to meet his eyes – if not because they needed to crane their necks uncomfortably just to  _ see _ them, then because the sheer weight of judgement that rested on one’s soul upon meeting that faded, but still piercing, blue gaze could crush any lesser will.

In the time when the rest of the room had their heads bowed, I met that gaze as I had done for years, and I gave a simple nod.

Cardinal Strada had handed down Durandal to me. He had taught me, when he had a spare moment. He was a bastion of strength and faith, our greatest swordsman and an example to everyone in the Vatican.

Knowing what I did now, I felt my respect for him increase – to remain so steadfast in his support of the Church despite its failings was worth nothing less. But at the same time, I found myself feeling pity for him.

The Church would never live up to his ideals.

I knew that all too well, now.

Still, I offered him my nod of respect. Because he didn’t have to make the small effort to show that he disapproved of this, but he did so anyway.

I was standing at parade rest, my head held high as I stood before the panel. I’d held the stance for all of the past two hours, and I might have found it uncomfortable if not for the lingering warmth of Twilight Healing in my bones. It was a sensation so familiar that I could scarcely imagine a time when it was strange to me.

It was Asia, looking out for me as always, and I had to hold down the smile that came with it.

My other was never the most staunch believer in the Church’s rules and laws. Spoken or unspoken, traditional or new, Asia’s practice was to pick a chosen few and run with them. It had been a bit of a problem between us, particularly when I was young.

Now I just appreciated that Asia had let the judges speak.

Still, she hadn’t had to stand perfectly still with her hands clasped before her and  _ smile _ the entire time. The complete lack of motion had spooked the chief prosecutor so badly the man was sweating and twitching in his chair.

I wasn’t entirely sure Asia was even breathing. Exactly what Twilight Healing could and couldn’t do wasn’t a science, after all, and this wouldn’t be the first time she had discovered something new in the name of teaching someone a lesson and having fun doing it.

My other only moved when the final word was said, stepping forward into the prosecutor’s face and startling the man so badly he almost fell off his chair. “Ah, I suppose that’s it, then? That’s the whole ball game.”

As Asia sighed and stretched her arms above her head, I sighed internally. I supposed that it was Asia’s right to speak however she wanted to the Vatican now, since we weren’t Exorcists any longer. But I’d kind of hoped we would just go.

Instead, the chamber had fallen silent, and that was the very worst thing to do when Asia had something to say. “I always thought we’d leave the church in a blaze of glory and burning infidels myself, but I suppose this works too.”

Admittedly, I’d always imagined our career ending that way too. We had a bit of a reputation.

Asia turned and wandered back toward me, the tiny, bloodthirsty smile of a point straining to be made pulling on her lips. “Seventeen years ago, I was abandoned on the doorstep of an orphanage,” she began. “I was raised by the Sisters there, who did their very best to instill in me the best of humanity and a belief in the goodness of God.”

Asia drew level with me, turning on her heel and leaning against me for a moment as she looked out on the chamber. I could feel her heartbeat drumming loud through the point where her weight became mine.

And I could feel my own lips twitching as she burst out laughing, the raucous sound bouncing off the ceiling to be heard again. Asia as a  _ Sister. _ The thought alone was the best joke I’d heard all day.

“I’m sorry,” Asia chuckled, wiping a dramatic and entirely imaginary tear from her eye, “but just the  _ idea _ of that is hilarious.”

A lot of disgruntled grumbling started to rise from certain people in the room, and I narrowed my eyes as I recognised certain faces – faces that had looked down on my other, who saw her only as a tool they could use rather than as a person who was just as much her own as she was  _ mine. _

I knew that Asia heard them too – that she saw them, and certainly recognised them. Yet she didn’t pay them even the slightest attention.

Asia sighed, re-settling herself beside me as she straightened to address the room. “For seventeen years, in one way or another, I’ve served the Vatican. As a helper in the orphanage, as a healer, as an Exorcist...and occasionally as a self-employed purveyor of medicinal goods.”

I could hear her accent sliding toward the north as she spoke. It had driven the Sisters spare once upon a time, until she started withholding it for the sake of peace. I had been disappointed in that, honestly; the rhythm and the flow of her voice was never at its best until she slipped into her natural step.

Well, she was  _ running, _ now. She’d even changed to English.

I wondered if she noticed.

Asia winked when she’d finished speaking. Not at anyone in particular, she just winked. “As some of ye can attest.”

A large number of men turned to look at their neighbours and Cardinal Strada’s eyebrow twitched.  _ That _ round of new suspicion wasn’t going to go away for a  _ long _ time, and he knew it.

“In those seventeen years, Xenovia an’ I have done a great many things – and everything we’ve done has supposedly bin in the name of ‘God’,” she continued. “In the name of ‘God’, we have tended tae the children. In the name of ‘God’, we have bled ‘n screamed and cried. In the name of ‘God’, we have shed blood and torn muscle and shattered bone and we have  _ destroyed _ the men and women who we were told were ‘the enemy’!”

As Asia’s voice rose from quiet to thunderous, I found my own head bowed. Six years as an Exorcist. Six years of supernatural war. Six years that we had laboured under nothing more than a truly immense lie.

“Fer the past six years we have been your necessary evil!” Asia declared, throwing her arms wide and letting her coat billow. “We were needed to purge the world of man’s evils and worse, in the name of ‘God’, we were told. Why us? Because ‘God’ ordained that  _ we _ , the children of His house, should go forth in His name and do His work! Because we had debts ta pay tae those who raised us and protected us! Because without the approval of ‘God’ we were  _ nothing!” _

Those were all things we had been told, I had to admit that was true. We’d been told a great many things by people who thought we needed pretty words to make us go out to fight.

We hadn’t. We never had.

Asia’s voice dropped. Her hands returned to her sides. “But mostly? It was because no one else would.”

We would fight because we were needed. Not for words of praise or some sort of material reward.

A lot of the men on the panel were looking very uncomfortable now. Asia took a step forward, her coat drifting behind her. “I’d say we were just children, unknowing o’ the truth of what we did, but that would be a lie. We were soldiers, and we have been for a long time.” She glanced at Cardinal Strada. “An’ we accepted that.”

That had always been my role in God’s plan, I had felt. To go where I was needed and do the work of God alongside my other.

“We were twisted and folded an’ bent and moulded until we were the weapons that would sit in the Lord’s left hand and strike down with great vengeance and furious anger upon the evil and the ungodly, no matter the form they might take.” She looked at Dulio. “And we forgave that.”

Then, the words had been nothing but noise from the faces that sent us on our way. A kind of drop signal, the scrape of blade on scabbard as we were unsheathed.

“We knew you lied to us,” Asia admitted, and I supposed that there was where we were different. She had listened, and she had heard.

I had listened, and I’d moved on.

An unthinking blade.

“In a thousand ways on a thousand days you smiled and lied and sent us off ta spread the Word through fire and blade.” Asia’s gaze was turned to me. “And we…” Asia paused. “Well, honestly we were kinda pissy ‘bout tha’, but we mostly got it out of our systems through gratuitous violence so it doesn’t  _ really  _ count.”

...I wondered if I should tell her that ‘gratuitous’ was a much better descriptor for her fighting than my own.

I almost wished that I  _ had _ noticed, now. Because even if I  _ had _ been angry, I could at least have worked it out. I could have moved past it.

But now, the words I had once ignored...they hurt.

In the way that only a long-unnoticed lie can do, they hurt.

“Or, it  _ didn’t _ really count,” Asia mused. “Until, of course, it did.”

A lot of heads had lowered around the room. The faces still visible followed Asia’s hands as she raised them high and gestured to the room as a whole. “There are a thousand hypocrisies that lie even here, in the beating heart o’ Christendom,” she intoned. “A thousand sins, a thousand wrongs, from the white ta the mundane tae the absolutely unforgivable.”

Asia knew.

She said ‘we’, but it was Asia who always handled people.

I...had always been a blade. Asia alone I had let in so close, where even Sister Griselda and Irina remained a step away. Asia was my anchor to the world who made sense of it all, who handled the subtleties so I could fulfil my purpose and strike down the enemies of the Lord.

Yet despite that, despite the weight that I placed on her, Asia never said ‘I’. Only ‘we’.

Because she was my other. And I was hers.

Faces rose, while some had never fallen. Some faces I knew, some I didn’t, some were the same that had I had noted earlier as voices tried to rise. Like soldiers before a fortress, they tried to scale the bulwark before them – and like soldiers before a fortress they were repelled, crushed against and beneath the stone of my other’s voice and convictions.

“We know them all, or ‘t least, we know enough – but we believed that, despite all tha’, the church mattered,” Asia thundered. “We believed that there was a reason behind all of it, a justification beyond empty congratulations and the blood in which we steeped ourselves.” She dropped her hands, and I felt the prickle across my neck as the words gained weight. The others in the room felt it too – I could see the words, smothered by Asia’s voice but going for a resurgence, turning tail and fleeing down their owner’s throats.

“But there isn’t. All that we’ve done, all that we’ve believed, all that  _ you _ have done through us...it doesn’t really matter – does it?

“Because there is no justification. There is no higher purpose.

_ “There is no God.” _

The truth. The truth that had come from the mouth of a Fallen cur, a madman and a murderer, but which remained the truth nonetheless.

That was the problem with truth. Like a sword, it was the same in every hand, and always cut too deep. And like a sword, it had severed something important from me, a tenet of my life and soul.

My faith had died. And without it, I was lost.

Just like the faces before us – some red with anger and full of grinding teeth, some downcast with hidden eyes, one that may have been cast in Vatican stone, and one that smiled down on us with a quiet sadness intermingled with pride.

Asia looked around. “And honestly? Despite all that I know to be true, I have ta wonder if there e’er was, ‘cause it’s hard to believe that the house of the being we considered worthy of our worship could have fallen this low.”

...Well.  _ Almost _ lost.

“You –  _ all _ of you,” Asia gestured to them, “what  _ are  _ you, in the end?”

Because there was something before God.

She lifted her eyes to Strada. “Are you paragons?”

Something before the Church and the Father and the Son.

To Dulio. “Are you guardians?”

Something that had never let me down for as long as I had believed in it.

Her eyes met mine. “Are you heroes?”

When all hope and Faith were gone...

Asia clenched a fist and slammed it  _ down, _ and as wind rushed through the chamber she asked  _ “ARE YOU EVEN MEN?!” _

My other still stood strong.

She stood with eyes ablazing and a figure far larger than her stature, her presence all throughout the room.

Asia Argento, who had taught a lonely, angry orphan about numbers and language and the world.

My friend Asia, who had healed my bumps and bruises and never left me alone when I needed her.

My partner Asia, who had become an Exorcist with no Light Element because I  _ needed _ to be an Exorcist and she refused in the face of all reason to let me walk that path alone.

_ My _ Asia, who I had depended on for so very long.

“Maybe you used ta be,” Asia said, “but you’re not anymore. All you are now?” She snorted. “All y’ are now is an assembly o’ funny hats, tryin’ desperately not to let the truth escape from under your collective brim.”

She shook her head as she stepped back. “God is dead – and it wasn’t the Satans that killed him. It wasn’t even the Fallen.” She swept her arm around the room. “God died when you decided that He mattered more as a figurehead than an idea. That the Church wisnae strong enough to survive His loss and carry on in His name.”

I had faltered, when I learned that God was dead. I had lost the step beneath me and plunged toward the dark, flailing for a way to hold on.

But I had been stupid to ever worry. Because Asia was there, and she had soothed my loss of faith just as she had soothed every other pain.

She stood beside me, looking out into the room, as the men who sat in judgement found themselves the judged instead. She was always like this. Always so well-thought, so well-spoken, laughing as she ran rings around the others. It was when she was most alive.

She was so many things that I was not – and it made her shine so bright, I sometimes wondered that other people couldn’t see it.

Asia was a fire, dancing and weaving as it burned and warmed in equal measure. And she would always light my way.

I had faltered. But now I’d found my step.

“Ask o’ me, and I shall give thee the heathen for thine inheritance, an’ for thy possession, the ends of the earth. Thou shalt break them wi’ a rod of iron. Thou shalt dash them in pieces, like a potter’s vessel. Be wise now therefore, ye kings. Be admonished, ye judges of the earth. Serve the Lord with fear, and rejoice with trembling. Kiss the son lest he be angry, and ye perish in the way, though his wrath be kindled but a little.”

Slowly— _ slowly— _ Asia performed a stage bow. Her arms spread wide, her palms up, her torso almost parallel to the ground. “Amen.”

I would always be a blade – but I’d let Asia be my wielder.

She had better earned my faith than God ever did.

I turned with her as she rose, both of us approaching the massive double doors, and Asia had her palms pressed against the wood for a moment before she paused and looked behind her. “Actually, ah’ve bin meanin’ to ask ye this for a while, but faer d’ye all get your hats from?”

Dulio’s expression, now that he had looked up to show it, was a small but knowing smile and the vast majority of the stern-looking men staring down at us broke into confused murmuring, but Cardinal Strada’s expression fell. It wasn’t immediately obvious, but I caught the twitch of his eyebrow and the despairing turn of his mouth.

It took a few minutes, but the general consensus appeared to be that the Vatican contracted an expansive Church-related family in Vatican City for the construction of their headwear and had for at least a century now.

“Right,” Asia nodded, “thanks. I jest wanted tae talk to your supplier ‘bout some bathroom furnishin’s.”

Abject looks of incomprehension abounded in the chamber. The only exceptions were Dulio, his lazy smile still in place; Cardinal Strada, who was begging her not to continue with his eyes alone; and me, as I let my lips pull wide.

Asia’s beaming smile was aimed straight at the Cardinal Strada as she spoke. “Well, if they can make receptacles for the truly incredible amounts o’ shit that you people can spew daily, ah jest  _ have _ tae get mah next toilet there.”

The incoherent screams of outrage didn’t start until the doors had almost closed behind us – but they were preceded by the sound of Cardinal Strada’s forehead smacking into the wooden surface of his desk.

“You’ve been waiting almost seven years to use that line,” I commented as we walked, the familiar corridors passing us by for the last time.

“And it was worth every second,” Asia declared, almost skipping as her voice shifted down to Italian again. I sighed, feeling a great deal lighter from it, and hummed as a thought occurred. I couldn’t bring myself to hate the church—not really—but even if it was only in a tiny way I  _ did _ want to get back at them...

“Asia, do you still have that list?”   


My other turned and blinked at me, then seemed to catch my meaning and nodded. “I’m pretty sure I do. Why?”

I smiled.

-x-x-x-

“Xenovia,” Asia declared, “you’ve been holding out on me.”   


I smiled happily. The weight in my chest was gone. “Maybe a little.”

The massive piece of blessed and magically-reinforced paper that was pinned to the Vatican’s main doors was titled ‘100 Reasons to Fuck the Vatican’, in massive block letters. Holding it in place was Excalibur Destruction, near the top of the massive double-doors that would take at least two step-ladders for anyone normal to reach  _ before _ they could try to grip the Holy blade.

I could keep Durandal—it wasn’t like anyone  _ else _ could use it now that it had been passed to me—but I had to leave the Excalibur Fragment behind. I wished it well; it was a good blade that deserved a strong and faithful wielder.

But for now, it could serve me one last time.

“You wouldn’t talk to me for a month after I wrote that thing,” Asia said leadingly as we turned away from the building.

“I felt that it was needlessly disrespectful and a betrayal of the organisation which we served,” I told her.

Asia glanced over her shoulder, and I followed suit to see an argument was already breaking out amongst the white-robed figures around the door. I had to wonder if we were about to cause another schism; Asia had certainly been very thorough in her wording and research. “But now?”   


“Now?” I asked, smiling happily to myself. “Now, we no longer serve them. Sister Quarta, Cardinal Strada, Dulio, the Sisters from the orphanage and the others who work so hard...I will always respect them, but they are not the Vatican. The Vatican is a group of old men in silly hats who lie like they breathe and are terrified of losing power.

“I’m not an Exorcist anymore,” I declared, “and my faith is no longer there to blind me, so I can see it for it truly is and speak as I feel is right.” I looked over and met her gaze. “Fuck the Vatican, and with rusty barbed wire, too.”

My other almost fell over as she gaped at me, staggering back into a proper pace alongside me and apparently trying to re-settle her breathing. “So this is what happens when you don’t act like a ‘proper Exorcist’?” she asked, and I nodded.

“I had faith that what many called the failings of the Vatican were merely a part of the plan of God – that their many arguments were of import that I couldn’t comprehend,” I said simply. “Without the justification of God, they are only failings and petty squabbles. So what else is there to say?”

Asia was silent for a few moments, then nodded. “I suppose that’s fair.”

We walked for another minute, and were almost to the edge of Vatican City when my other spoke again, her coat hanging from her shoulder as we walked in the Italian sun. Without her favoured shirt or the barrier of her coat, the modest swell of her bust made her seem much more like a woman than she ever acted. “So, are you going to show me up  _ completely _ now that the Vatican isn’t holding you back?”   


I shook my head, clasping my hands behind my back. “I could never make a show as well as you.”

A strident call drifted through the air, rapid-fire Italian arguing over the expense of hats.

Asia laughed. “Well, this will more than do.”   


I considered her for a moment. The sun in her hair and laughter in her eyes, one hand tucked away in her pocket as she walked while the other kept her coat hanging down her back.

...Well, I wasn’t an Exorcist anymore... “Actually, I don’t think it will.”   


“Oh? Why do you say tha—”

...So there was nothing holding me back.

Asia was like a fire. And her lips were wonderfully warm.

I straightened back up, taking a step back and smiling at the look on my other’s face. “Now, that will do.”

My smile only grew as I walked away. Irina had been right: sometimes, you just had to make a move.

After all, in the end, only three things remain – faith, hope and love.

And the greatest of these was love.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

 

**In a Gadda de Avalon**

**Kiba**

The land north of Italy’s border with Switzerland is a landscape of mountains and valleys. Peaks both sharp and gradual rise and fall like the angered sea, snow-white dusting the mountains’ heights just as emerald grass carpets the grounds below.

A few miles west of the valley-nestled town of Les Haudères, on the eastward slope of Mont de l’Étoile, that emerald grass was shadowed by the swaying pines, their quiet susurrations as subtle as the shade they cast in the afternoon sun. There was an almost sombre air to the place, interrupted only by the faint breeze and the crinkle of paper being gripped in tight fingers.

Midway up the slope, among the trees and leaning against a prominent rock slowly vanishing beneath a covering of moss, the pattern of green and grey was broken by a shock of white, black and blond.

For the fifth time in the past few hours, the Knight of Gremory scrutinized the note. He was taking advantage of the time he had alone to wear something other than his school uniform, in particular a pink-and-red chequered overshirt above a white v-neck t-shirt and jeans. He rarely got the chance to wear anything from his personal wardrobe – either he was keeping up appearances at school or during contracts, or Gasper was leaping out of his shadow to punch him in the face for ‘dressing like a total douchebag’.

As if  _ Gasper _ had the right to criticise  _ his _ wardrobe choices.

Shaking away the memories of all the strange shirts that his brother liked to conjure up, he turned his focus once more to the paper in his hand. The writer had clearly taken great care with their handwriting, making sure each and every line was perfectly formed. 

**46° 4' 39.09'' N**

**7° 28' 26.9796'' E**

_ Though our souls are fled and our hearts gone cold, _ __   
_ Though our lives were not easy, and our passing untold, _ __   
_ Through kindness we find that some things still hold; _ _   
_ __ While our love still walks, we will never grow old.

Whatever her faults, Kiba decided, Asia Argento was clearly one of the members of the clergy that genuinely  _ cared _ . That alone put her above most members of the Church in his eyes, to say nothing of how she’d fought beside them, healed them,  _ laughed _ with them. 

And then there was her relationship with his brother. It was interesting, he mused, how many similarities Gasper’s rapport with Asia shared with their own relationship. That, combined with the way Asia carried herself, made him suspect that  _ she _ might well identify as  _ he _ .

…

But that wasn’t his business, and he was letting himself get distracted.

Kiba swallowed thickly and strode further into the woods, a quick check of the GPS in his pocket noting his latitude and longitude so that he would find his destination without trouble.

It was a bare few minutes before the tree-line momentarily ended – and in the clearing beyond, he knew he’d found what he was looking for.

The plant-life of this area was hardy, evergreens and scrappy grass that could handle the winters and the heights. But far from the usual pines and ferns, this little segregated area of woodland seemed utterly abnormal.

The trees didn’t  _ tower _ , not compared to the others around, but they gave a feeling of solidarity that the rest of the forest lacked. They had weight, a ponderous inevitability that could only come from a complete indifference to Time. And it seemed that no two of them were the same – a wide, many-branched oak tree almost seemed to be supporting a bowing willow. A rowan tree, only recognisable by its unseasonal yet almost shining berries, had grown to entwine its branches with those of a smaller chestnut.

In fact, looking more closely, it seemed like every tree was connected to at least one another. The great plants leaned on one another, or entwined their branches, or in some cases seemed to have grown from the same spot and almost wrapped around one another. The area beneath their combined canopy was almost universally shade, letting the few shafts of light that made it through glow all the brighter.

Nothing should have been able to grow under a canopy that thick. Yet, as he approached, Kiba found that the grass in that shade was taller than in the surroundings. It was thicker, a darker shade of green that seemed somehow more healthy. Growing in amongst it was a veritable collage of flowers, every shade of the rainbow seeming to appear every time he looked closer at one place in particular, bringing with it a unique blend of aromas that he couldn’t hope to identify but still filled him with a pronounced sense of peace.

The forests of this place were old, and they felt it; the chilled breeze carried the feeling of snow, a cool scent that eased the thoughts. But this area, this little island amidst the green...it had a greater  _ meaning. _

It wasn’t that large. A few dozen metres across, maybe; and some of that space was lost to a near-silent river, more of a stream, that flowed through the centre. A willow grew from seemingly below the water at one point, its roots providing an easy crossing as its fingers trailed in the water below.

...This place wasn’t exactly  _ sombre, _ and it wasn’t hushed or completely silent, either. It had a library’s quiet, an ambiance that was not the absence of sound but rather the sound of many unseen things being contentedly busy. There were no birds, no insects or other small animals, and yet there was the sense of having company. Not seen, not heard...not, perhaps, even there really...yet, somehow, existent all the same.

Kiba wondered how much of that was his imagination.

On silent feet he tread further into the clearing, mouth slightly agape in awe. This place...he’d never seen nor felt anything like it, and though he knew not its purpose, he was thankful all the same for Asia telling him about it.

He turned slowly to regard each tree in turn, then breathed, as though questioning the world itself, “What  _ is _ this place?” 

The world did not answer, but someone else did.

“A reminder,” a voice said simply, “of things that should have been but weren’t, and things that shouldn’t have been but were.”

Kiba spun towards the source of the voice, heart in his throat, then sighed upon seeing who it was. “Argento-san, don’t scare me like that!” A glimmer of humor appeared in his eyes for a moment. “Unless, of course,  _ you _ are a member of that order of assassin nuns…”

Asia laughed, shaking her head. She was standing just inside the inner edge of the clearing, barely beneath the canopy, dressed in heavy boots, cargo trousers and a black t-shirt bearing an image of a Bible alongside the legend ‘Spoiler Alert: Beardy Dies’. Beside her was Xenovia, who was wearing a dark green t-shirt, jeans and what looked like the same make of boots as Asia.

Curiously, Kiba noted that they were holding hands.

“Oh, they tried to push me that way,” Asia chuckled. “I’m afraid I drove quite a few Sisters Superior to the very brink of frustration before they finally gave up and let me be.”

Kiba smiled wryly. “If the way you and Gasper were bantering is any indication, I’m not surprised.” The Knight folded his hands behind his back, then sobered. “What was it you were saying? ‘A reminder’?”

Asia sighed, sobering as she raised her free hand and rested it against a tree. “Yes,” she said quietly. “Particularly to me.”

She looked back at Kiba, gesturing him over with her free hand. “Come and take a look at this tree – right around here.” She tapped a specific point on the trunk. “Then tell me what you see.”

Kiba did as he was bade, and peered closely at the smooth bark. 

He froze. A series of small, apparently natural indentations formed several letters. The letters that made up a name he’d kept in the back of his mind for years. 

_ Maria Salvatore. _

For a long moment, Kiba simply stood there, fingers tracing the name of one of the orphans who’d died in that hellish place. Slowly, as though moving through water, his head turned to regard each of the other trees that stood out in the clearing as he put the pieces together. The Knight felt wetness on his cheeks as he turned back to Asia.

“This is your work, then?” Kiba asked quietly. “You made this place...for them?”

Asia nodded, silently. Then she gestured to the high-rising roots of an oak tree, which were positioned just well enough to serve as seats – something Asia and Xenovia took advantage of, with the former leaning into the latter’s side as she regarded Kiba. “It was for them, mostly. But it was also, just a little, for me.”

Kiba nodded silently, then wiped the tears from his eyes with the back of his arm. “I...don’t know what to say, except thank you. It’s...comforting, I guess? To know that here, at least, there is proof that the world remembers them.” The blond let out a wet, somewhat relieved sigh. “And I think that they’d appreciate it too, if they were here…”

Xenovia and Asia shared a look. Then, slowly, Asia held up her hand to the air. “For it is in passing that we achieve immortality,” she murmured. “Through this, we become a paragon of virtue and glory to rise above all. Infinite in distance and unbound by death, I release your soul, and by my shoulder, protect thee.”   


A spinning green magic circle appeared over her hand, and was gone almost as quickly – but it left behind a small, softly glowing orb, held with infinite care in Asia’s palm.

Kiba stared at the orb, some unknown force drawing him to it.

“...Valper had this on him, when they searched him in Italy,” she said slowly. “He didn’t even need to be interrogated to talk about it – he wouldn’t  _ stop _ talking about these things.” Gently, she placed a single finger atop the orb, as if stroking it. “...Crystallised Light Elements. Parts of the human soul, removed and rendered tangible in reality.”

She looked up. “This is the very first one – the prototype model. You can probably guess what that means.”

The Knight’s face was pale, his expression caught between hope and disgust. “T-those are their souls?” he asked shakily. “What are you going to do, Argento-san?”

“What I’ve been working towards for almost a decade now,” Asia said simply. She got up from the root, walked over carefully, then placed the orb gently in Kiba’s hand before folding his fingers over it. “...I failed completely, when I tried to save your lives,” she said softly. “It was all I could to save the memories, and to be happy that at least some survived.”

Kiba blinked, then his eyes widened with fragile hope. “When you say  _ some _ , do you mean…” The Knight trailed off, as though afraid voicing his question would ensure a reply in the negative.

Asia grimaced. “In a manner of speaking, yes, Kiba-san. You were not the only one of Galilei’s victims to survive the…” She visibly searched for a word, eventually giving up. “To survive what happened.”

Kiba’s eyes narrowed. “...But?” he prompted.

Asia was silent for a long moment. “I think, that it would be better if I showed you.”

The blonde turned towards the most central part of the grove, Xenovia by her side as she approached the tree which grew at that point. It was the tallest and the widest of its kind that Kiba could see, its canopy spreading out almost halfway to the edges of the grove and its trunk wider around than any two other trees put together.

Asia walked right up to it, leaning her forehead and free hand against the bark for a moment as she closed her eyes. There was a momentary sensation of... _ awareness, _ as if a thousand eyes had abruptly opened around them and were staring down at where they stood...but then it passed as Asia opened her eyes, and there came the groaning sound of shifting wood.

The roots of the grand tree, each larger than the trunk of lesser flora, began to twist and writhe around a spot not far from where Kiba himself was standing. The dirt around them churned and sank, revealing what seemed like a passage beneath the earth, supported by the same roots that had concealed it.

Asia and Xenovia stepped down into it without hesitation, the blunette glancing over her shoulder as they descended and raising a single eyebrow.

Kiba swallowed thickly, then followed the duo without a word, his hesitation born of nerves rather than any lack of trust. The two ex-exorcists had earned  _ that _ much at least, fighting beside his family.

The passage didn’t extend very far, or at least it didn’t seem to. It was a gentle downward slope, lit on one end by the sunlight that streamed down through the great tree’s canopy like a spotlight and on the other by a faint golden luminescence. When they reached the end, the passage expanded out into a chamber, earthen walls supported by the roots of the tree. It was an interesting phenomenon, if somewhat sparse...but it wasn’t what drew Kiba’s eye.

That, was the glowing object in the centre of the room, and the humanoid figure just barely visible within its golden, crystal-like boundaries.

“What  _ is _ this?” Kiba asked aloud, moving past Asia and Xenovia to lay a hand on the object, the other still holding the tiny, glowing sphere with as much care as it had ever held anything. He felt the  _ thrum _ of magic within it, and drew back. The... _ flavor _ of the magic seemed familiar, almost like…

_ Ah. _

“Some sort of... _ stasis _ spell?” he half-asked, turning back to the girls. “Gasper’s used that sort of magic around me—”  _ ‘And on me,’ _ the Knight silently added, “—enough for me to recognize it.”

Asia nodded. “I thought so when I first found her...and now, coming back after all this time…” She stepped forward, peering through the glow. “...She hasn’t aged a day.”

Kiba turned back to regard the spell – or more accurately, the girl  _ inside _ the spell.  _ “Tosca…”  _ he murmured. “She was always the one who made sure we were alright, that we were getting along. I...looked up to her.” Unnoticed by the Knight, a tear worked its way down his cheek. He opened his mouth to speak more, but no words came. 

_ For what words could truly describe what he was feeling at that moment? _

Neither Asia nor Xenovia commented; they just stood quietly to the side as Kiba pulled himself back together.

Once he did so, Kiba turned to Asia and asked, “I suppose you brought her here because nobody could get her out, then?” ‘At least not safely.’ was left unsaid but understood.

“The… _ ‘researchers’ _ in that place,” Asia spat out, “tried just about everything to get her out of there, or at least that’s what I got from the files in that place. Nothing the Church could do would help, and I certainly couldn’t manage it.” She looked to the crystal once more, sighing. “I knew even then there there were  _ some _ people who could probably do it, but…” She grinned half-heartedly. “Well, Beelzebub’s phone number wasn’t in the Church yellow pages.”

She sighed, resting a hand gently on the crystal-like barrier. “It was...almost worse, in a way, finding her. Because while every other... _ body, _ that I brought down here was another failure of mine...she rested on the very tipping point, eternally just out of my reach.”

The blonde shuddered slightly, Xenovia putting an arm around her as she stood silent for a long moment. Then she visibly pulled herself together, looking up at Kiba once more. “Still – now, at least, that one last lingering failure of mine might become a pyrrhic victory.” She patted the barrier gently. “...I’m sorry,” she said quietly, “that this was the best I could do.”

Kiba shook his head firmly. “Don’t you  _ dare _ apologize,” he said, his voice choked with emotion. “I should be  _ thanking _ you. Just...I’m sure you did everything you could.” He gave a watery smile. “You’re too kind a person not to.”

Clutching the concentrated souls of the orphans in careful hands, Kiba bowed deeply at the waist, so that his back and legs were at nearly a ninety-degree angle to one another, a gesture of absolute gratitude.

Asia blinked a few times, then turned away towards Xenovia, hiding her face. The taller girl rolled her eyes, turning the blonde right back around despite her protests. Asia coughed into her hand, doing a very poor job of hiding her red face and glistening eyes. “Well, we’ve got to get to the hotel so we can be rested for tomorrow,” she said brusquely, grabbing Xenovia’s hand and making her way back up the passage. “So I suppose we’ll see you in Kuoh, Kiba-san.”

When the two were almost out of the passage and nearly out of sight, Asia stopped in place. Then she turned back, tears glittering on her cheeks, and offered a smile that mixed gratitude and remorse in equal measure. “...Thank you, Kiba-san. Hearing that from you means...a lot to me.” She reached up, wiping some of the tears away. “Tell that troublesome brother of yours that Xenovia and I will be back soon...and that so far, there’s no sign of any assassins. Nuns or otherwise.”

Kiba let out a wet laugh. “I’ll be sure to do just that.”

As Asia and Xenovia left, he walked to the center of the clearing, knelt gently, and set the orb down. As he laid a hand on it, he closed his eyes and wept. As tears streamed down his face, he felt a great tightness deep inside him, like a giant’s hand squeezing him, begin to ease. After a minute or two, he reopened his eyes, only to freeze. The orb was now dark, its golden light having migrated to the roots of the  _ Senjutsu _ -enhanced trees.

_ To where his friends’ remains were buried. _

As he looked on, the glow spread up the trees, then small particles of light began to fall like leaves from their branches. These particles began to coalesce into humanoid shapes, indistinct at first, but rapidly gaining clarity.

The first soul to take full form was Maria. Her long hair, which had been black when she was alive, glimmered a translucent gold as she walked towards his kneeling form. “Isaiah...you’ve grown up,” said the young girl in a quiet, happy voice. She wrapped her tiny arms around his midsection, their presence as much ephemeral as physical, and rested her head on his shoulder.

Beyond them, the other souls began to take on distinct shapes of their own. A boy with long, shaggy hair, a girl with a sideswept pixie cut, a pair of sleepy-eyed twins who stood side by side, hands entwined…all things told, there were more than two dozen spirits in the grove.

In spite of how long it had been since he’d seen any one of them, Kiba recognized every single one of them.

As Maria’s voice faded from the clearing, it was as though a dam broke. Between one moment and the next, Kiba was swarmed by the spirits of his childhood friends. 

Not one of them spoke.

Not one of them needed to.

As the Knight of Gremory held his departed friends close, neither he nor they noticed the golden glow passing from their phantasmal forms into his body, though from that moment forth Kiba felt a strange warmth within him. Nor did they notice the same particles of light that had formed their bodies continuing to fall, drifting on an unfelt wind towards the centre of the clearing where the great holly tree took them in and passed the luminescence down through its roots…

For a time, all they knew was the comfort of holding one another, but eventually one of the children spoke, asking him to tell them about his life.

That was all the prompting he needed to regale them with tales of an overprotective King, a scary-yet-loving Queen, a gluttonous Rook and a sassy Bishop. The tales lasted hours, Kiba noticing in a peripheral kind of way that some of his friends occasionally disappeared from the group only to return minutes later but not paying it much mind, and the light continued to fall.

All too soon, however, Kiba knew that if he didn’t return soon Rias would start to worry. He said as much to his friends, and almost as one they nodded, smiling sadly.

“We know you have to go, Isaiah…”

“But you aren’t the only one.”

Kiba blinked, confused – and then his eyes widened, as the twins, Alberto and Adrianna Achille, stepped out of the passage beneath the tree, each holding one hand that wasn’t their own. Between them, looking bewildered but still clutching their hands tightly, the breathtakingly familiar sight of a girl with white hair tied in twintails rose from the earth before her pink eyes turned to Kiba. Her clothes were the same as they had been on that day years ago, the black blazer and skirt over a white dress shirt and open-front jacket with the design of two crosses in blue on the front.

It was true that the others were all wearing the same thing, but...somehow, with their luminescent and yet oddly muted appearances, the memories hadn’t been so vividly recalled when he saw them.

“...Isaiah? Is...that you?”

Before he was even aware that he’d risen, Kiba’s Knightly speed had hurled him across the clearing and, in his next breath, his arms were around Tosca.

“You’re okay,” he whispered, disbelief warring with hope in his cracking voice as he repeated those same two words over and over.

It was later still by the time he had once more re-ordered his thoughts, finding himself unable to release Tosca’s hand for more than a few seconds at a time even as he tried his best to help her get used to the idea of almost a decade having passed since she was last aware of the world. He...honestly thought she was more confused than ever by the time he finished, but she still went along with him as he finally, reluctantly, made the decision to go home.

He promised his friends that he would visit their grove as often as he could, and made to return to his King with Tosca in tow. As they were walking towards the path he’d taken on the way up, idly wondering if he could even recall the way to the forest’s edge, he heard Maria’s voice call to him. “Tell Miss Asia to come back soon, Isaiah! We want to thank her for this!” 

Kiba nodded firmly and waved to his friends with his free hand, brushing aside a tear that was trickling down the side of his face on the way up. He’d been doing quite a lot of crying lately, he noted.

But this time? This time, his tears were welcome, as they carried away his sorrow and left only happiness in its place.

As a boy who’d forsaken the name Isaiah walked down a hill in Switzerland, a friend he’d long thought dead beside him, he came to a decision – nay...a  _ resolution _ .

Whatever was to come from now on...he and his family would  **forge** a path forward together. Never apart, never wallowing in melancholy – just moving forward, with their hearts as one.

Always.

* * *

**AN: Well, it certainly has been some time since we updated this, hasn't it? My only excuse is that I've been quite busy with a number of things, both on the writing front and IRL. That said, Tenin and I have the next chapter pretty much done, we just want to have the one after that pretty well in hand before we post that one. Anyways, we hope you enjoy!**   



	11. Chapter Nine: Rendezvous

**Chapter Nine: Rendezvous**

**Gasper**

“...medical insurers rioting, hospital staff converting to a dozen different faiths, a sinkhole forming in the warehouse district and, as if that wasn’t enough, it’s been a week and I  _ still _ have Fallen Angels traipsing all over my school grounds trying to deal with a self-contained, supernatural ecosystem that would probably be declared a protected site in an  _ instant _ if any of our botanists happened to catch wind of it.”

Sona let her stack of papers fall backwards onto her desk with a  _ thump  _ and leaned forward on them, meeting my scarlet gaze with her own violet behind the flash of her lenses. “Do you have  _ anything _ to say for yourself, Vladi?”

“Ahhhhh.  _ Goooood _ times.” 

…

I tried to be professional. Really, I did. But evoking that eye-twitch from Sona was  _ such _ a treat; asking me to resist would be like asking Koneko to give up sweets.

_ Never gonna happen. _

I’d been called up to Sona’s base of operations in the Student Council room the better part of an hour previously to touch base about the state of things now that everyone was more or less recovered. It hadn’t changed much, if at all, since the last time I came in; same undecorated wooden walls and floor, same regulation desks arranged in a circle with Sona’s desk at the centre, same filing cabinets lining the walls...and the chairs were just as uncomfortable as ever.

With such a dearth of things to occupy my attention, it was really no surprise that I was forced to entertain myself.

Dressed as always in the Kuoh Academy uniform, with her black hair kept short enough to never pass the back of her neck, Sona’s glare ratched up to a whole new level as her hands clasped tight in front of her.

I allowed the small smirk to fade from my face as I shifted in my chair. “In all seriousness, the way we hit Valper’s base  _ was _ a bit excessive, but Rias agreed with Asia-san’s plan; it was the best way to make sure that scumbag didn’t get away.” I adjusted my sunglasses with a sigh. “As for the trees? I honestly didn’t know what to expect when she told me she could use Senjutsu, but that? That was beyond the pale.” 

I tilted my ever-present shades down to look Sona directly in the eye, leaning forwards and placing my own hands on the table. “And for all its power, it was quite nearly not enough.” I let out a shudder. “You may not have been directly on the battlefield, but you were close enough that you should’ve been able to feel  _ something _ of his power. We fought and killed a  _ Cadre _ , Sona. We’re lucky the  _ city  _ survived.”

Sona met my gaze for a few moments, then took off her glasses and rubbed at her eyes. “I know, Gasper. I know. It’s just…” She looked out the window, out over what appeared to be the perfectly intact Kuoh Academy grounds. None of the students who walked on them could tell, but what we occupied was no more than a stop-gap measure; a pocket dimension, formed and then anchored to the space over the  _ real _ Kuoh Academy’s forested remains while the Grigori tried to reclaim them.

“...Does it feel real to you?” she asked, finally. “How close we came to dying—to ceasing to exist, along with this city and all its people…”

My hand drifted unconsciously to my neck. “At times,” I said quietly, “I begin to forget. But then I wake up in a cold sweat, gasping for air, because I feel  _ his  _ hand around my neck,  _ squeezing _ and—” I cut myself off, turned away, and took a deep, shaky breath. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget that feeling, Sona. And I think it’ll be a while yet before I can sleep the night through. But in the end,  _ we survived.  _ And that means something, I think.”

“Maybe it does,” Sona agreed. “But the simple fact is...I don’t think I’ve accepted it yet.” She turned back to looking at me. “From outside the barrier...I could only feel so much of what was going on. I could feel the impacts, I could feel the power...but I couldn’t see anything. I couldn’t hear anything. I was just...waiting.” She fiddled with her papers, making sure they were properly squared in front of her. “The first thing I would have known about that fight being lost would have been dying. I never saw Kokabiel, not even after he was dead.”

“I’d say you should count yourself lucky, but…” I cracked a knuckle. “I know that waiting, not knowing anything about what’s going on, not knowing if your friends are alive or dead...that’s every bit as hard as fighting a Cadre. It’s a less physical kind of pain, to be sure, but it’s awful nonetheless.”

“...I suppose,” Sona said, noncommittally. She shook herself, pushing her glasses up her nose and gaining a brisk edge to her voice. “Now, back to the purpose of this meeting.”

I arched an eyebrow. “If this is about the hospitals, I’m not apologizing. And Asia-san isn’t going to either.”

“I’m not heartless enough to argue over the good that Asia-san accomplished during her brief stint in Kuoh,” Sona denied. “However, the sudden release of so many patients has had a...well, ‘deleterious’ is putting it lightly, but Kuoh’s local governance is  _ reeling. _ Specialists from the Underworld have contained the spread of information and are taking care of the memories of those involved, but the simple fact is that there were a significant number of people in those hospitals who we know next to nothing about, and the possibility exists that someone will slip through the cracks.”

Sona grimaced. “This... _ incident… _ has shown that, despite our positions as the Overseers for Kuoh, Rias and I have no plans in place for a situation of this magnitude, and quite possibly lack both the manpower and the sheer ability to deal with another one under our own power.”

I pulled off my shades and scrubbed my face with the palm of my hand. “It’s times like this I wish we could just dispense with the masquerade.” I sighed wearily. “If only people weren’t so prone to mob mentality and fearmongering…” 

I shook my head. “But that’s nothing but wishful thinking. I understand where you’re coming from, really I do. If it helps, I’m more than willing to take a more active role in information gathering.” I flexed my fingers. “Even though I burned through all that power, I feel... _ more _ , than I was before. I think I can put that to use, with a bit of practice.”

“Well, you’re not a part of my Peerage, so it’s not my place to ask,” she replied. “Still, I’ll talk with Rias. I’ve already started to consider various measures that could be taken to prevent something like this from happening again, or at least to prevent it being quite such a surprise; your abilities in particular should be invaluable to establishing a more comprehensive understanding of what occurs in our territory.”

I nodded, then opened my mouth to speak before snapping it shut. My cellphone had gone off, the lyrics of a newly-added ringtone blaring through the room.

_ “~Made in heaven, Made in heaven, It’s for all—” _

I had my phone out and had answered the call before the third bar could even play, mouthing ‘Asia’ to Sona by way of explanation.

“Fish market, Shark speaking, how can I help you?”

_ “You can get some new material for a start. That one was just weird.” _

I snorted, rolling my eyes. “Yeah, the moment I said it I thought better of it. Bah! I’m more sleep deprived than usual; sue me.” I cleared my throat, then continued, “Anyways, how’ve you been? Kiba told me he ran into you and Xenovia on his sabbatical in Europe, but other than that I haven’t heard any news about you at all.”

_ “Yeah, that makes sense. We’ve kinda been off the grid the last few days.” _

“Ninja nuns?” I asked with a slight smile on my face.

_ “Not  _ yet,” Donne replied, placing a great deal of emphasis on the second word. Someone snorted in the background.  _ “But we decided to take the scenic route coming back from the Vatican. The Adriatic Sea’s pretty nice this time of year; wish I could say the same about Kazakhstan.” _ Donne coughed.  _ “I think I’ve still got some of it stuck in my clothes somewhere.” _

“Sounds like you’ve had quite the adventure. Perhaps even an adventure of the  _ bizarre _ variety. Wake up any Ancient Mongolian Gods of Fitness?”

_ “Sadly not,”  _ Donne sighed.  _ “Three Djinn, some Óriások, a dozen Stray Devils, an Afrit, some kind of Salt Elemental when we were crossing the Black Sea, a small mountain and a whole  _ mess  _ of spirits I didn’t recognise while we were in China, but the closest we came to a proper Bizarre encounter was the ghost that chased us out of Mongolia.” _ There was a pause on the other end of the line.  _ “Huh. Xenovia thinks it might have been Genghis Khan; waddya know.” _

Resisting the urge to make a Star Trek reference, I gave a chuckle. “Well, that  _ is _ quite the series of events. A Salt Elemental, you say. I hadn’t realized that Tumblr had gotten so powerful.”

Laughter came pouring down the line, lasting a good few seconds before it trailed off.  _ “Never underestimate Tumblr, my friend. Never.” _ Donne coughed.  _ “Anyway, we got a bit sidetracked – I was calling to say that Xenovia and I will probably be back in Kuoh in...three, four hours?” _ There was a muffled conversation.  _ “Xenovia’s got the map and she says four hours, but I think we can make it in three.” _

A grin split my face. “I look forward to it! I’m just sitting here with Sona Sitri, discussing all the extra work your Panacea impression has caused her.”

Sona glared at me overtop her glasses; clearly, she wasn’t too pleased at the way I’d phrased that.

_ “...Oh,” _ Donne replied succinctly.  _ “Umm...Xenovia, if we do another lap of the Sea of Japan do you think we could maybe tack another day onto that ETA?” _

“No, no,” I denied. “It’s not as bad as all that. I’m sure she just wants to set something so that, when you do this sort of thing again, it doesn’t cause mass conversions and rioting insurance companies.”

_ “...That does sound remarkably sensible,” _ Donne agreed.  _ “Alright then. We’ll probably want an hour or so to wash all this salt off and get changed when we get back, but we’ll drop in after that.”  _ There was a rattling sigh.  _ “It’s a good thing I wear my hair short; it’s bad enough washing it out after a run at just  _ this _ length…” _

A happy, probably goofy grin still on my face, I replied, “I’ll be sure to let Rias and Sona know; I’m sure we can set up a meeting for later today, or tomorrow if you prefer. No need to press yourself on our account.”

_ “Bah!” _ Donne declared,  _ “I haven’t pressed myself at all the past few days; I could do with something like a workout.” _ Her voice moved away a bit, quieting and leaving the sound of rushing wind.  _ “Oi, Xenovia! Bet I can reach Kyoto before you do!” _

Something incomprehensible was said in reply, but Donne’s voice quickly returned to its prior volume.  _ “Right, that’s done it. See you in a couple of hours – and if you hear anything about sonic booms in the Sea of Japan, we never had this conversation.” _

I snorted. “Roger that. If the Queen of Shadow Kyoto comes after your ass, I don’t know a thing.”

_ “Heh. Thanks, J...Gasper. I’ll see you in a few.” _

“Sprint safely, my friend.”

The call ended with a  _ click. _

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

**Asia**

I took my phone away from my ear, tucking it back into one of my coat’s inside pockets. It was more difficult than usual, with the way my coat whipped back and forth in the wind of my run, but a faint glimmer of Touki helped keep my clothing somewhat stable while also keeping the salt spray out of my face. Though, unfortunately, not my hair.

“You didn’t mention Romania.”

I glanced sideways at Xenovia, who—lacking Touki of her own, though I thought she would reach that level before too long—had cobbled together her own salt deterrent in the form of goggles and a face-mask she’d grabbed on our way through China. She was wearing a purple windbreaker and dark green waterproof trousers, much like the ones I was wearing beneath my coat; they might not have been the best looking apparel ever, but they they were hardy and they did their job well.“Well, he doesn’t need to know about that yet, does he?”

Xenovia raised an eyebrow at me, looking pointedly at the rather large bag I was carrying on my back.

I turned back to face forwards, feeling my cheeks burn. “I know, I know...but I don’t really want to mention this over the phone.”  _ ‘And I’m also  _ really _ not looking forward to having this conversation.’ _

We ran in silence for a few moments (well, as silent as hundred-plus-mile-per-hour movement could ever be, with wind and footfalls and flapping cloth), before Xenovia bumped shoulders with me  _ very carefully. _ At this running speed, the last thing we needed was to miss a step and trip over a wave. “You shouldn’t be embarrassed, you know.”

“I’m not  _ embarrassed!” _ I declared immediately, turning back to her.

“Good,” Xenovia replied. “Because you have nothing to be embarrassed about. You don’t hold all the blame, and there was no fault in your actions.” 

I felt a smile twitch at the corners of my lips, a small weight lifting from my chest as I opened my mouth to reply.

Then Xenovia’s expression shifted, and what I could see of her face suggested she was smirking. “Plus, I always like seeing you in action. You’re hot when you’re angry.”

I tripped over a wave.

-x-x-x-

“Asia, I really am sorry!”

“No. No, you really are  _ not.” _

I shifted my grip a bit to keep ahold of Xenovia as she tried to twist out of my grip, stalking back towards the shoreline. We’d been at least twenty miles inland before I caught up to her after my abrupt but intimate acquaintance with the Sea of Japan’s depths, only ingrained reflex letting me throw my bag to the sky and reach the surface quickly enough to catch it again, but I was nothing if not bullheaded when I set my mind to something.

“You were barely even wet!” she argued, attempting to muscle her way out of my grasp once more as I stepped out onto the sand. I had her bent backwards across my shoulders, my arms raised and hooked forward to keep her legs and arms extended and stop her doing much more than flopping around; a bit awkward, with the bag I was wearing, but I let out the straps a little and dealt with it.

Xenovia was a hell of a lot stronger than any ‘unaware’ human, including the current world-record holders and professional athletes—she should be, I’d done a lot of her actual bodily training myself. The thing was though, she was a swordswoman, first and foremost—she relied on her weapon in combat, and thus spent more time training her skills than just her body.

I, on the other hand, relied on my body in combat—and through the powers of Twilight Healing, I could push myself to heights that other people just couldn’t reach in my kind of timeframe.

Xenovia was superhumanly strong. But I was  _ bullshit _ strong.

“It’s the principle of the matter,” I declared, stopping just at the edge of the surf. “I thought you were all about principle, miss I-will-act-in-the-manner-befitting-an-agent-of-the-Vatican?”

I rolled my shoulders and adjusted my grip, resulting in Xenovia finding herself dangling from just below her knees, upside-down in front of me. I  _ would _ have gone for the ankles, but unfortunately that would have left her with her head buried in the sand.

Goddamn genes. I could be strong enough to tear steel with my bare hands but I could barely even break five feet.

Xenovia folded her arms and looked at me imperiously as best she could in her position. “Principle precludes such precocious prepubescent practices.”

I blinked. “Wait, did you come up with that just now or—”

Xenovia took my moment of distraction try and take my feet out from under me by reaching forward, grabbing my ankles and yanking them towards her. Unfortunately for her, we live in a universe where ‘strength’ can substitute for mass in the good ol’ inertia equation, and thus all she really did was jostle me a bit.

“Right then!” I announced, dislodging her grip by the simple expedient of lifting her higher. “If you’re gonna get handsy…”

I swung Xenovia out to the side, then set myself, twisted my upper body, and untwisted all at once with an added spin of my lower body to put the full force of my movements behind her. “Then  _ sling your hook!” _

Half a minute later, when Xenovia dragged her sopping-wet way out of the surf and glared up at me, her first words were “A fishing pun?”

“I held myself back the entire time we were crossing the Sea of Japan,” I pointed out, offering her a hand up. “There’s no need to be  _ salty.” _

I didn’t resist when she pulled me down into the sand and water with her—I just gently tossed my bag onto the shore before I landed, and joined in with her laughter.

-x-x-x-x-x-

I wasn’t really expecting anything out of the ordinary when Xenovia and I went to leave the church and get the lay of the land after getting ourselves cleaned up. So, needless to say, the sight of Johan sitting cross-legged opposite Mariko, a deck of cards between them, wasn’t what we were expecting to find in the open area between the front of the church and the treeline.

“You have any sevens?” Johan asked, his coat trailing somewhat on the ground as he sat in the same Gilgamesh-rip-off outfit he’d been wearing the first time I saw him in this life.

“Go Fish,” his pint-sized opponent replied solemnly, her plain pink t-shirt coupled with her brown shorts and boots making me wonder if Johan had been showing her some western TV.

With a good-natured grumble, Johan reached for the top card, then turned his head towards us. “Well, it took you long enough! Mariko-chan is a regular Queen of Games over here; any longer and what little remained of my pride would be gone!”

Mariko looked up from her cards, turning towards Xenovia and I, and a few moments later a high-impact ballistic child slammed into my midsection. It said a lot about what I’d been up to for the last few years that I had to consciously relax my abs to make sure she didn’t hurt herself when she ran into them.

Mariko wrapped her arms around me with a cry of “Asia-nee! You’re back!”, leaving me to do the same in return and smile.

“Yes, we’re back Mariko-chan. How have you been?”

Her brow furrowed. “It’s been crazy. A bunch of sick people got better all at once,” she looked at me for a moment, “and then there’s that huge hole that appeared! The grown-ups are  _ really _ upset.”

“Is that so?” I asked, struggling to keep a level voice and a straight face as, beside me, Xenovia smirked.

It was a bad habit of hers. I think she learned it from me.

“Well, I hope that at least your good-for-nothing brother’s been paying you all the attention you deserve?” I asked.

“Oi. I’d like to think that I’m good for at least a laugh or two,” Johan shot back, dusting himself off as he got to his feet.

“Then maybe I should just call you chuckles?” I wondered aloud.

“Eh, I’ll take it. It’s better than ‘leech’, ‘freak’, or ‘abomination’, that’s for sure.” 

Suddenly, though I knew that it was just in my mind, my coat felt a significant bit lighter. “Yeah. I suppose it is.” I smiled, though it probably looked a touch wan. “Hey, Gasper. How are you doing?”

The blond smiled, rubbing the back of his neck absently. “A bit sore, but otherwise fine. That girl Kiba brought back with him from his trip...I guess having someone from his past to protect has given him quite a bit of motivation.” 

I couldn’t keep down the smile that pulled up the corners of my lips. “So, he managed to get her out of there already then...I’m glad to hear it.”

Gasper gave a smile. “Yeah. Of course, Giardiniere-san isn’t content to sit around either; since her power is similar in some ways to Forbidden Balor View, I’ve been working with her as well.” Gasper shrugged. “It’s slow going so far, but what she lacks in experience, she more than makes up for in determination. Between the two of them, I can’t help but get a fire burning in my heart to improve my  _ own _ magic—not that I really needed any extra motivation.”

“True.” I nodded. “You  _ have _ always been quite the dumpster fire.”

Gasper let out a cackle. “Ah, but trash is the best kindling, for it is unwanted and plentiful!” After his cackling subsided, Gasper looked back at me with a twinkle in his eye. “But seriously. It’s good to have you back, sibling of my heart.”

My expression twisted, though it was mostly in suppressed laughter. “Well  _ someone’s  _ taken a turn for the chuuni _. _ How much anime did you  _ watch _ while we were gone?”

Gasper’s face became dead serious, a far-away look in his eye. “Not enough, my friend. It’s never enough.”

I raised an eyebrow, and opened my mouth. Then I paused, closed it, covered Mariko’s ears, and opened it again. “Boku no—”

My hair and coat streamed out behind me to their maximum extension as the air in front of me was violently shunted out of the way of a looming shape, its edges fuzzy with un-light save for the crimson lanterns set in its head.

The lips were curled back and upward, showing every sharpened tooth and not so much curving into a smile as plunging, like a knife wound carved into the flesh. Both eyes were open to the point of bulging, but rather than becoming prominent they were sinking backwards into the face, becoming shadowed pits whose pupils glowed with the very fires of hell. The arms hung limp by the sides, the palms upturned and the fingers curled inward like claws.

“The next words out of your mouth had better be ‘Hero Academia’,” the hellish vision of primordial fury in front of me declared in a voice like a python who’d been eating cigarettes for the last five years, “or so help me I will take  _ all _ of your Pratchett books and hide them in unreasonable places.”

Xenovia had stiffened behind me, and Mariko was blinking up at me as my hands gently kept her facing toward me as I quirked an eyebrow. “Well of course. After all, a Hero always has good taste. They never watch certain other shows—only villains do that.”

Like the flipping of a light switch, Johan’s face switched back to a calm smile, his body once more re-affirming its solidity as he resumed his usual height. “Well that’s fine then,” he declared. “But I think we’ve digressed a  _ bit _ from the topic at hand. How have you two lovebirds been?”

I felt the burning in my cheeks rise at the same time as the customary denial...but right about the time I would normally have said it, before I’d even swallowed it as I tried to put together the least awkward confession I could manage, a pair of arms draped themselves over my shoulders and pulled me just far enough backwards that I ended up leaning most of my weight against a solid—and yet, in some places, quite soft indeed—surface. “We’ve been just fine, Vladi-san. It’s been nice to have my Asia to myself for a few days.”

I fought off the urge to wriggle in place as I felt Xenovia’s fingers curl gently into the gap between my t-shirt, a black number with the caption WANTED: DEAD OR ALIVE and a picture of my face, and the belt of my cargo trousers. She knew  _ very _ well what she was doing, and I resigned myself to paying her back later as I tried not to be too distracted by the green-covered protrusions on either side of my head, framed by a black leather jacket.

If my face and ears had felt any hotter, I would have wondered when Riser Phenex had arrived and why he was trying to set me on fire.

Johan, on the other hand, let out a noise like an overheating kettle (which I belatedly realized was an actual ‘squee’), and grinned widely. “I  _ knew  _ it!” he said jovially, almost clapping his hands in glee. 

After a few moments more of  _ that _ embarrassing display, he calmed down slightly, coughing into a fist as his cheeks reddened. “Ahem. That is, congratulations. I’m sure you’ll be very happy together, if I know anything about D-Asia’s kindness, and I’m fairly confident that I do.”

For a few moments more, Xenovia didn’t move. Then, the pressure she was putting on my shoulders lightened somewhat and she gave a momentary hum. “We will, Vladi-san. Thank you.”

“I told you, Asia-nee.”

I looked down at the little girl still held loosely in my arms, and I couldn’t help the grin that split my face despite my rampant blush. “Yes. Yes, you did, Mariko-chan.”

“Sooooo…” Johan trailed off, tapping his fingers on the side of his leg. “Are you settled in, or should we come back later, when the others are out of school? Give you a proper welcome?”

I looked over my shoulder at Xenovia, who passed the buck right back to me without saying a word  _ or _ moving her hands. We’d spent most of the past forty-five minutes since reaching the church either preparing for a bath, having a bath or getting _ out _ of the bath, with some of that time allotted to let me run my cleaning spell over our clothes. We could use a little while to make sure things were in order. “How about you come get us when the others are free? I think any kind of full meeting is probably going to get off-track, so if you could bring Irina so she can walk with us that’d be good.”

Johan’s brow crinkled. “There’s just one problem with that. I can’t come into that Church and neither can Irina, anymore; you’ve got some top-notch wards on there. Hell, Mariko and I were stuck out here playing card games on grass for the last hour.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You... _ do _ know that Mariko can get past the wards? I keyed her into them when she was staying there during the Kokabiel thing, and it’s not like I took her  _ off _ them afterwards.”

Johan stood there for a moment, then let out a sigh. “No. No, I did not know that.” He smiled at Mariko, who’d looked down guiltily. “Don’t worry, Mariko-chan. It’s not like you’re used to knowing about this stuff…”

Mariko shuffled a bit. “Um...actually, Gasper-nii, I...kind of wanted to play with you for a while...so…”

Someone less observant than I would’ve missed the minute way one of Johan’s eyebrows twitched for a moment. He walked slowly over to us, then gently laid a hand on Mariko’s head and ruffled her hair. “You could’ve just asked; I always have time for you, Mari.”

I had to admit—the two of them together were a heartwarming scene. I wish I hadn’t ruined it with my choking when I heard Xenovia’s whispered reaction to the scene, which I probably wasn’t meant to hear.

“I want one…”

_ Probably. _

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

**Gasper**

After Mariko and I finished being a sappy Lifetime movie expy, we departed from the church. I shot a few texts to the various other members of the Peerage before we stopped at Issei’s house, where I had the sneaking suspicion I’d find at least Irina. Or, if not her alone, her, Rias  _ and _ Akeno.

It was no surprise at all to find that I was correct. Sachiko Hyoudou, wearing a plain dress and apron with a simple white head-scarf around her hair, had been the one to answer the door, and as she showed me in, she mentioned that Irina was visiting her son.

I had Mariko stay with Mrs. Hyoudou, who was happy enough to take some time away from her cleaning to entertain my daughter, while I braved the unknown horrors of the burgeoning Breast Dragon Emperor’s bedroom. I didn’t hate the boy, not in the least. But I had a feeling that there would be things in his room not meant for young eyes.

Or any decent eyes, for that matter. Thankfully, I’d long since ceased being qualified for  _ that _ descriptor.

All the same, I felt an unusual sense of trepidation as I raised my hand to knock. After rapping sharply on the door, I called, “Oi, Ise-chi. You two decent in there, or should I come back later?”

There was a faint rustling from beyond the portal to eternal damnation, and then a voice called out, “More than you, Gasper-san.”

I snorted. “Touché, Irina-san.” Taking her snark as acquiescence, I gently opened the door.   


Issei’s bedroom was more or less as expected. Like with most Japanese teens, it featured little more in the way of furniture than a bed, a desk with a computer on it, and some bookshelves. Of course, most of those bookshelves were covered in erotica; written, drawn or on discs. There was some more normal manga and light novels interspersed with the porn, but it was rather lost what with the borderline-hentai posters on the walls and the very questionable alarm clock beside the bed.

Compared to the room itself, its occupants were frankly tame; Irina and Issei were sitting on his bed side-by-side, a single open textbook between them resting on one of their thighs apiece. If it weren’t for the mild irritation on Irina’s face and the slight flush to Issei’s, I might’ve been fooled into thinking Irina was  _ just _ here to help him study.

But anyone who’d been around Donne for any extended period would surely have some of his craftiness rub off on them, and I could certainly see the spark of  _ keikaku _ in Irina’s eyes. Plus, her choice of dress—a well-fitted pink t-shirt and a white skirt, with a thin yellow jacket lying beside her on the bed—told its own story.

Issei himself looked like he’d been caught more or less completely off guard by her presence, going by his rumpled-looking shirt (bearing a name that I vaguely remembered from some of the more questionable message boards I perused in my spare time) and cotton trousers.

“I hate to break up your study date,” I began, relishing the way Issei’s face became even pinker at my choice of words, “but I thought you might like to know that Asia and Xenovia-san are back, Irina-san. I figured you and I could walk them back, give you some time to catch up.”

For a moment, I thought I could see the way a well-oiled machine clicked and whirred behind Irina’s eyes. Then she blinked and smiled. “Thank you, Gasper-san, that’s very kind of you.” Then she bit her lip, turning to look at Issei a bit questioningly. “Ise, will you be alright if I…?”

“Sure, Irina-chan,” he replied, nodding with a smile. “You already helped me out a lot today, so it’s no problem.”

“Thanks, Ise,” Irina beamed, squeezing his shoulder before she stood up, gathering her jacket as she went. “And I told you to just call me Irina, you know? We’ve been friends for long enough.”   


Issei turned a slightly darker shade of red, rubbing the back of his head. “Yeah…”

Irina giggled, favouring him with another fond smile, then waved a bit at him as she headed out the door. “I’ll see you again soon, Ise!”

“Right,” he replied, seeming to breathe a bit easier. “See you soon, Irina-chan.”

I bit back a chuckle as the door closed behind us. Issei bulli was one of my  _ favorite  _ things...after eating at Café D’if and being a shitlord in general, of course.

After I collected Mariko from where she was being doted upon by Issei’s parents, the three of us left the Hyoudou household, my daughter’s hand in my own as she happily swung her arm back and forth. Once we were a fair distance from the house, I spoke up conversationally. “So, how is  _ Operation: How to Train Your Dragon  _ going?”

Irina seemed to stumble over nothing for a moment, her twintails whipping back and forth, while Mariko just looked at me with wide eyes. Clearing her throat, Irina gave me a look which came in a couple of notches below a glare. “I thought ‘training’ Ise was _ your _ job, Gasper-san?” she shot back. “Though if you’re handing it over, I’ll happily accept—I think you must have found your definition of ‘training’ in Akeno-san’s dictionary.”

I chuckled. “To your first point, I may have responsibility for training his body, but the training of the heart is something I have no experience in. I think you’re a better choice for helping him along on that front.”

I waved a hand airly before continuing, “As for your second point, a wise man once told me the following words: ‘when it comes to exercise, if you don’t feel like you’re dying, you aren’t yet trying’. I’m just applying that to combat practice.”

My expression sobered. “Better he take his lumps now, in a controlled environment, than taking them later against an opponent who doesn’t have his well-being in mind.”

There were several moments of near silence as we reached the end of the road where the Hyoudou family lived and turned towards the outskirts of the town, rows of houses passing us by on either side. Mariko’s quiet humming was the only thing that really stood out in the quiet Spring afternoon, the cheery theme song for one of her favourite shows quite at odds with the atmosphere that followed us. Realizing that I’d probably brought the mood crashing down like DIO with his roadroller, I smirked. “The fact that I’m a sadist is simply icing on the cake.”

Irina grimaced slightly, facing forwards once again. “I’m no stranger to the idea of hard training, Gasper-san. I spent six years with Asia, after all.” She crossed her arms, drumming her fingers on her biceps. “Still, if I could have the chance to be part of that, I  _ would _ be happy to take it.”

I spread my hands. “By all means, join in. I’m sure that his motivation would rise even further with your eyes on him, and I don’t doubt that you’ve got plenty to teach both him  _ and _ me, with all your experience.” I offered a half shrug. “Hell, it might give you some new ideas yourself; Maō knows I’ve seen the evidence firsthand that teaching someone else is as good for the teacher’s growth as it is the student’s.”

Irina smiled, and there was an honest light in her eyes quite unlike the cold analysis I’d seen from her so often. “Thank you, Gasper-san. I’ll be sure to do my best for Ise.”

I chuckled. “I’m sure you will.”

At that, Mariko interjected, her voice sounding like she’d received a revelation from on high. “ _ Ohhh!  _ Irina-san  _ like _ -likes Issei-san!”

“Yyyyyup,” I replied, my voice tinged with amusement. Truly, my daughter was a precious, precocious girl, and I  _ adored _ that.

Irina turned a light shade of red, her eyes darting around the street as if searching the homes and occasional cherry trees for an escape, then gathered herself and straightened to her full height, arms still crossed. “And?”

Mariko smiled radiantly. “You can do it, Irina-san! Just believe in the Asia that believes in you!”

I snorted loudly. “D-did you just quote Gurren Lagann, Mariko?”

Mariko blushed. “S-so what?!” she squeaked, pouting and folding her arms. “Girls can like mecha too!”

I raised a hand in a gesture of surrender. “Of course, of course! I just didn’t know you’d seen it yet.”

Mariko seemed to calm down at my words, smiling happily and taking my hand once more, so I turned to regard Irina, who was still waiting for  _ my _ response, though her stern pose was rather ruined by the way her lips were twitching as she suppressed a smile.

“Well, I can hardly match a Kamina quote when it comes to motivational speaking,” I admitted, “but as I’ve said, I do think that you’d be good for him. There’s just a certain... _ something _ about the idea of you and him that seems  _ right _ .” I coughed into my fist. “And of course, as a filthy shipper, I have a soft spot for the reunion of long-lost childhood friends, however cliché it may seem.”

Irina regarded me for another long moment, then uncrossed her arms and sighed as she shook her head. “You and Asia really are scarily alike…” She looked up again, then added in a dry tone, “Though of course, you have a certain something all your own.”

I deliberately let one fang poke out of my lip as I smiled smugly. “I choose to take both of those things as compliments.”

Irina shook her head one more time, then turned away with a smile as we continued our walk to the church.

-x-x-x-x-x-

A while later, we’d collected Donne and Xenovia from the church and returned to the school. During the trip back, I’d been pretty quiet, giving Irina time to catch up with her friends.

It was... _ nice _ to see their bond remained strong, unlike in the original timeline.

Shaking my head to clear it of such thoughts, I opened the door to the club room. Within, the rest of the Peerage waited in their uniforms, along with Kiba’s friend, Tosca Giardiniere. Her educational situation hadn’t been completely sorted out yet, so she instead of the Kuh girl’s unfiorm she was wearing a sky-blue blouse and jeans as she sat close enough to Kiba that a sheet of paper would have to hold its breath to fit between them.

Rias looked up as the four of us filed into the room. “Welcome back, Argento-san, Quarta-san. I trust your trip was, if not uneventful, at least enjoyable?”

Donne and Xenovia looked at one another, then back to the rest of the room. Donne sighed, slinging the large bag she was carrying off her back. “Oh Gremory-san, do we have a story for  _ you _ . But, before that...special delivery, Gasper-san.”

She tossed the bag to me, and now that I got a proper look at it I could see it was a heavy-duty, waterproof gray duffle with shoulder straps that was almost as tall as Donne. My curiosity piqued, and a vague inkling of what might be inside tickling the back of my mind, I unzipped the bag, a couple of shadow tendrils arcing up from beneath my feet to stabilise it.

What I saw was a pair of booted feet, with the legs they were connected to leading further down the bag.

Inanely, my mind jumped to the most bizarre conclusion possible.  _ ‘Bruno Bucciarati?!’ _

Nonplussed, I glanced between Donne and the feet.  _ “What,” _ I offered in a complete deadpan.

Donne frowned. “Okay, that’s not quite what I was expecting…” She walked around the bag so she could see what I was seeing, then immediately cursed, grabbed the bag and turned it the other way up. “Crap, I’m so sorry! Christ, I’ve been carrying you like that since  _ Mongolia,  _ why didn’t you say anything?!”

“...Sleepy…” a muffled voice said from the unopened end of the bag.

A muffled, but  _ very familiar _ voice.

“... _ Valerie?!” _


	12. Chapter Ten: She Should Have Been Home

**Chapter Ten: She Should Have Been Home**

**Asia**

After letting out that hoarse whisper, Johan just stood there for a long moment, a hand 

outstretched toward where Valerie’s head would be resting on a cushion I’d packed with her. In that same choked voice, he asked, almost plaintively,  _ “How?” _

I shrugged, chuckling a bit nervously. “Uh...with extreme prejudice?”

My friend looked at me, consternation warring with gratitude on his face. “I think I need a  _ little bit more _ than that!” he replied, voice cracking midway through and becoming almost a shriek.

Rias cleared her throat, reminding me that we  _ were _ standing in a room with the rest of the ORC members, and Mariko and Tosca besides. “I would  _ also _ like to know what’s going on, Asia-kun. And for  _ Hell’s _ sake, take that bag off her, Gasper.”

Johan blinked very rapidly, then did as he was told, yanking the zipper up in one swift, albeit shaky, motion...

...And he was promptly bombarded with several high-pressure cushions erupting from where they had been kept constrained. As shaken as he was, it was a wonder he had the presence of mind to keep himself on his feet with his shadow.

I winced, and Xenovia turned to look at me. “I did say you overdid it.”

A particularly plush pillow slid slowly down his face and hit the floor with a decisive  _ plop _ , revealing a decidedly unamused expression that didn’t really mesh with the giggling Mariko wasn’t trying very hard to stifle.

Gasper then turned to Valerie, his face decorated with a complicated expression that was a combination of a sorrowful frown, a welcoming smile, and an angry snarl. It was clear to anyone with eyes what the cause of his emotional turmoil was.

Without the hefty padding to fill it up, the duffel seemed to have far more space available than anything containing a living person should. Unfortunately, that was because even when she was practically swaddled in a waterproof jacket, jumper, hoodie and blouse, as well as cargo trousers and waterproof leggings, the former tucked into socks that led in turn to serviceable boots, Valerie Tepes was still far too thin for comfort.

With the movement of the bag being taken off her head where it had draped itself in the deflation, a gentle action on Gasper’s part that belied the shaking of his hands, the raised hoods pulled away from her face. The features revealed there were like porcelain in their colouration and delicacy, lending a near-glow to the golden hair and bloody red eyes that framed them and were framed by them respectively.

But beyond the striking looks, even a human eye could trace the structure of her skull and see the discolouration below her eyes. The way the clothes hung loosely, despite their layering, spoke of the figure beneath them.

I felt my fingers twitch in a pointless motion as I reached for Twilight Healing by reflex…

But this wasn’t something I could cure. Not even with the food, blood and water we’d been sure to provide for her during our little trek.

After a few moments of just  _ staring  _ at one another, the two Dhampir practically tackled one another, clinging to each-other as though they sought to become a single gestalt being through willpower alone.

I felt the corner of my mouth twitch upward.  _ ‘Yeah. That’s more what I was expecting.’ _

After a minute or two, they separated just enough so that Gasper could turn to face me once more.

Wordlessly, he motioned for me to continue, one arm still snug around Valerie’s too-bony shoulders, one of his own shoulders fulfilling its newfound occupation as her pillow.

I chewed my lip, turning to Xenovia. She just gave me a frank look and waved me on.  _ ‘“You don’t hold all the blame” my ass!’ _

“So…” I began into the  _ very attentive _ silence in the room. “Uh...well, I’d just like to preface this by saying that I was minding my own business.”  _ ‘Yep. Just...minding my own business, running through Romania. Definitely. Filling my blood with life energy was just...training. Yeah, training. Even if it  _ did _ make great vampire bait.’ _

Johan fixed me with a gimlet eye even as Valerie shot me a skeptical glance. “Now,  _ why _ don’t I believe that in the slightest?”

“...Poor judgement?” I tried.

Johan palmed his face, letting out a shaky sigh, prompting a cuddle from Valerie. He then looked to Xenovia, one eyebrow arched.

“Because she’s a terrible liar,” Xenovia said simply, and he snorted.

I swallowed the urges to run for the window, take off through the roof, cover Xenovia’s mouth with my hand and go die in a corner somewhere—some of them simultaneously—but I still wilted as Mariko looked at me disappointedly.

“...Look,” I began, trying another tactic, “it’s not  _ my _ fault that the Tepes faction picked a fight with me!”  _ ‘Even if I did send them a letter with the only remaining member of one of their groups saying I was going to drink their ashes with a glass of chilled sancerre.’ _

“Perhaps not,” Johan allowed, “but then again, are you  _ really  _ the type to let the enemy make the first move? To not be as provocative as possible to try and lead them into a trap or mistake?”

“She’s not,” Xenovia replied for me, and I barely restrained the urge to stomp my foot as I turned and glared at her (definitely glared.  _ Not _ a pout. I’m too badass to pout).

_ “No matter how it started,” _ I continued, folding my arms, “and I maintain it was  _ totally _ not my fault, there were...a few  _ altercations _ while Xenovia and I were in Romania. Things escalated somewhat,”  _ ‘I hope those castles and mansions weren’t protected sites…’ _ “and in the end I happened across someone who needed a lift.”  _ ‘After destroying most of the castle around her, anyway.’ _ “That’s really all there is to it.”

“‘Escalated somewhat’, you say. Coming from you…” Johan grimaced. “How much of Romania is left standing?”

“Gasper-san, I am  _ shocked _ and  _ appalled—” _

“Most of it,” Xenovia cut me off. “It’s missing a few castles, mansions, cave systems, villages and shacks, but it’s nothing that anyone outside the Moonlit World will notice not being there.”

“Am I answering for this or are you?!” I demanded, rounding on my friend once more.

The corners of Xenovia’s lips twitched up. “Well, if you’re offering, Asia…”

Johan cleared his throat, a slight smile now on his face. “Actually, I think that’s about all I needed to know, except…” His face darkened. “What about  _ him _ ?” he spat, his shadow writhing slightly in agitation. 

Xenovia’s face resumed its usual solemnity, and I looked over my shoulder at my friend from across realities as a small, twisted grin of my own pulled at the corners of my mouth. “Cut off his  _ bloody  _ head,” I replied in English, my accent leaking through.

Johan opened his mouth, probably to ask the follow-up, but Xenovia had raised a hand and started ticking off fingers. “And shoved a tree through his chest cavity, exsanguinated him, pulled out his fangs and powdered them, cut off all his extremities, impaled him on his throne, set the whole thing on fire, doused the fire with holy water, and dropped the castle on what remained.”

Johan raised an eyebrow. “That’s only nine steps,” he observed in the same language.

“Step ten was ‘buried in an unmarked grave’,” I told him. “But there really wasn’t enough to scrape together for that, so we just buried the castle.” I grinned wider. “The  _ whole _ castle.”

Johan let out a low whistle. “I knew you didn’t do things by half, but sheesh.” His face sobered. “He must’ve been up to some real shit to get you that mad, huh?” he asked quietly.

My eyes flickered to Valerie. “...Let’s just say,” I replied just as quietly, “that one day, she will heal. And on that day, I am going to ask her to drag him out of hell, and I’m going to kill him again.”

Johan’s eyes were completely covered by his shades. That didn’t stop me from  _ feeling _ how they became hard as steel. “No.  _ We _ are going to kill him again.” There was tension in the air, but none of it was aimed at one another. The heaviness and wrath was directed outwards, a united front against those who would dare hurt our own.

After a moment, Johan relaxed fractionally, then turned to face Valerie, pulling her close to him once more. In a hoarse whisper that I could barely hear, he spoke. I didn’t understand the words either of them said, as Valerie’s face softened, then became stern as she replied in the same language with an admonishing tone.

A tiny, familiar flicker of movement caught the corner of my eye, and my perception slid that way. The slightest of raised eyebrows, coupled with the specific movement of her fingers, told me that Irina certainly hadn’t let herself slip in the last couple of days.

I gave the slightest shake of my head in response.

This time, there was no need for Irina to play translator. Whatever they said was between them and them alone.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

**Gasper**

After the meeting, I’d asked for some time alone with Valerie (though when Mariko had pouted at me I had quickly amended my request). The others were kind enough to acquiesce, and had filed out of the main club room to the sound of low chattering.

So, there we were. Alone but for my daughter, with me curled up on the extravagant chair that we had acquired so recently, Mariko in my lap and Valerie leaning into my side.

I was still in shock, at least somewhat. I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised; this was  _ exactly _ the sort of thing Donne would do, the big-hearted softie. But still, it was almost like a dream.

He’d managed to do what I could not, and had rescued Valerie from those  _ bastards _ . At just the thought of it I pulled her closer, shaking slightly with unshed tears of guilt.

Earlier, I’d spoken to her in Romanian, a language that hadn’t left my lips for a  _ very _ long while. I begged her to forgive me for being weak, for leaving her behind with that  _ piece of filth  _ that  _ dared _ to treat the daughter he’d given life to like a  _ tool _ .

Her response?

“Gasper…  _ never _ call yourself weak in front of me,” she said, her voice softer than it seemed it should be. “I might have been older, but you were the one I looked up to all that time. I would sit in that castle forever if it meant you could be free to live like you deserve. But…” She pulled back a bit, holding my gaze with crimson eyes like I hadn’t seen in so many years. “...I thought you  _ died, _ Gasper,” she whispered, her forehead resting on mine. “...Please… I can stand to be alone if I know you’re safe, but… please don’t leave me alone in this world entirely…”

Even now, my heart felt like it was in pieces. The fear of loneliness in her eyes was palpable, and it nearly drove me to tears.

…

No, scratch that. I  _ was _ crying now, my tears dripping into her hair and making a mess. Valerie soon followed suit, staining my shirt with her own tears.

I felt a small hand tug on my sleeve as we both convulsed with quiet sobs. I looked up to see my daughter looking between us, undisguised concern all over her face. I wiped my eyes with the back of my sleeve, and gave Mariko a watery smile.

“I guess I look pretty lame, huh Mari-chan?” I asked, trying and failing to keep my voice from cracking.

Mariko frowned, then reached up and tweaked my nose. I’ll say one thing about my daughter: her grip is  _ strong _ .

“You’re not lame, Gasper-nii. But you  _ are _ sad. And when you’re sad, I’m sad.” She looked up at me with eyes far too heavy and serious anyone her age should  _ ever _ have. “Can I help?”

I let out a wet, surprised chuckle. “You really are something else, Mari-chan. Sometimes I think you’re more mature than me.”

Mariko let out a huff, feigning offense. “Only  _ sometimes?” _

I could feel it as Valerie laughed into my shoulder. “She knows you pretty well, Gasper.”

I pouted, unashamed. “Surrounded by comedians, aren’t I? Well then,” I shifted my arms slightly, “if you both like laughing at me so much, then how about  _ this?!” _

Like a striking snake, my fingers shot forth, tickling the soft spots on either side of my two victims.

Mariko shrieked with laughter and made several half-hearted attempts to throw my arm off. Valerie, on the other hand, made full use of the cushioning her extra layers provided to reach down my back to my ribs and respond in kind.

Within the next few moments, the three of us had toppled out of the chair and my assault had been repelled by a combined front. However, the alliance between House Tepes and the Yukimura Zaibatsu quickly collapsed as they turned their ten-pointed arsenals on one another. This allowed the Duke of Chunheim to rally his forces and launch a surprise attack, this time with the aid of his longtime ally, the Dread Raven Dragon Edmund.

From there, the war dissolved into chaos, and after a few minutes all three of us were sprawled on the ground, chests heaving and tears in our eyes once more. This time, though, they were tears of happiness and laughter.

Edmund perched on my chest, cocking the head of his raven form quizzically to one side. After a moment of scrutinizing me with ice-blue human eyes that  _ really  _ didn't belong in the skull of a bird (the shapeshifting little troll), he let out a sigh. As was his wont, his voice was completely different from every one he’d ever spoken to me with before. This time, it was deep and masculine, reminding me bizarrely of Samuel L. Jackson.

“You’re a weird one, contractor.” Edmund let out a sound that was a cross between a chuckle and a  _ wark _ . “But you’re never boring, and I’m happy with that. Wake me up when you need me.”

I gave a nod, and the Raven Mocker sank back into my shadow. I wiped the tears out of my eyes, a few chuckles still escaping even though the War of Questing Fingers had concluded.

“Ohhhh man,” I let out, flopping back down on the floor. “I haven’t laughed that hard in  _ years _ .” Gathering Mariko to my right side with one arm, I turned left towards Valerie, and pressed my forehead against hers. She smelled of fabric cleaner, new clothes and some kind of herbal shampoo, but there was an underlying base to all of it that evoked memories going back years.   _ “God, how I’ve missed you. _ ” 

Even as I scrunched my face against the backlash from Heaven’s system, I sighed contentedly.

The sound was mirrored almost exactly by Valerie. “I missed you too...my precious Gasper…”

As my face reddened in spite of itself, her breathing evened out, and she fell asleep.

So it was that when Akeno entered the room, I was twisting my body in all manner of uncomfortable and even eldritch angles as I tried to get free of her grasp, humming the Mission Impossible theme under my breath all the while.

I stared her right in the eye, and resigned myself to my fate as her normal demure smile widened like a cat that had discovered a lake full of cream in which thousands of canaries were currently bathing.

“Oh my, Gasper-chan~! Has Issei-kun’s talk of the ‘childhood friend’ route sparked a fire in you?”

I palmed my face, then let out a sigh. “Well, I guess I had that one coming.” As soon as the phrase was out of my mouth, I winced. Hopefully Akeno either hadn’t noticed or wouldn’t grab such low-hanging frui—oh who was I kidding. This was  _ Akeno _ .

As my friend’s smile widened even further, I beseeched the heavens, crying out a mournful plea as to what I had done to deserve such a thing.

Then I remembered I was a Devil, and despaired.

-x-x-x-

After Akeno had her fill of bullying her poor defenseless junior, she actually told me what she’d come to inform me of. Apparently, Rias wanted to do some more training; our narrow victory (if it could even be called such) against Kokabiel had seemingly lit a fire under her.

Of course, I was now faced with a trial worthy of the Twelve Labors: getting free of Valerie's grasp without waking her.

…

Okay, maybe I was being a  _ bit _ dramatic. So I wanted to treat Valerie like she was the most precious thing in the world, sue me. She needed some kindness and care, especially after  _ he _ —

I snapped my jaw shut, cutting off the train of thought before I could get any more  _ absolutely livid _ . Oh, I was gonna need to train  _ extra  _ hard today to work off this mood.

I shook my head, then resumed my task. If it had been anyone else, I’d have just sunk into the shadows and that’d be that. But Valerie was a Dhampir just like me, so it was entirely possible that she’d accidentally come with me if I did that and becoming a shadow while unconscious (or while not some kind of vampire) was  _ dangerous _ .

So instead, after a lot of trial and error, I managed to lift her off of me with a carefully constructed weave of shadows and a pulley system. I briefly debated tucking her into a proper bed in one of the old school building’s numerous empty rooms, but then my mind snapped back to her earlier words, and more importantly, the words I knew she left unspoken so as to not burden me.

_ “...I can stand to be alone if I know you’re safe.” _

_ ‘Please stay by my side.’ _

Between that and the troubled frown that had quickly replaced her small, content smile once I’d gotten free, my choice couldn’t have been clearer.

Shaking my head, I gently lifted her onto my back, using ephemeral strands of shadow to secure her even as she snuggled into me unconsciously.

Wonder of wonders, Akeno refrained from commenting beyond a light chuckle and saying, “You two are  _ precious _ .”

We then departed, Mariko clutching my hand as we walked out to the training yard.

Well, in all technicality it was actually just the school’s sports field, but after hours it served our purposes just fine. Of course, the ‘true’ sports field was currently playing host to a supernaturally-borne ecosystem that would make it a little tricky to practice like we usually did, but the ‘real illusion’ we were currently occupying could work too.

A football-field sized area of flat dirt with running tracks painted around the edge in red and white, the main school building to our East and the city to our North while the forest next to the Academy was up an incline to our West and South, gave us enough room to play around without causing so much damage that we couldn’t hide it by the next day.

The sounds of magic and combat reached my ears before we even broke the treeline, followed by the smells of sweat, ozone and disturbed earth. Emerging into view of the field, I could see the usual suspects (including Tosca; she was so nice that she fit into our group near instantly) scattered around, while Donne and Xenovia were also present.

As I approached, I was fixed with various looks. Issei, predictably, misunderstood the situation entirely and gave me what was probably supposed to be a manly grin and thumbs up. It was rather ruined by the fact that Irina had him on the ground in a rather unique form of arm-bar, as Donne and Xenovia looked on in no small amount of amusement.

Speaking of the terrible trio…

Donne gave me a cheerful wave with her free hand. The other was occupied with the blade of one of Kiba’s swords, held over her head, with the Knight in question dangling from the hilt...though admittedly not by much, considering the heights of those involved.

Kiba looked over at me from where he hung in the air, his expression of focused consternation melting into a look of surprise, then amusement. He knew damn well it wasn’t what it looked like, and he also knew that I’d been teased relentlessly for it, the cheeky bastard.

Irina paused in the motion of pinning Issei’s arms at their full extension (or maybe even a bit beyond it) using her hands and feet, lying on her front across his shoulders as she did so in a move that something told me had just as much ulterior motive around it as practicality. I felt like I saw a distinct fire in her eyes as they landed on me. I might have considered it my imagination, if not for the fact that Issei’s increasingly-garbled pleas for mercy redoubled and Irina coincidentally pressed herself even more against Issei’s back.

Meanwhile, Xenovia had Durandal buried up to its guard in a boulder someone must have scrounged up, the blade apparently having sunk into it point-first like butter, while the rubble scattered beside her told of a far more violent insertion. As I approached, the dust tickled my nostrils and I scrunched up my nose.

Koneko seemed  _ very _ interested… at least until Xenovia glanced back toward me, drawing the younger girl’s amber gaze in my direction as well.

The older of my two surrogate daughter-sisters (Nine Hells, maybe I really  _ did _ need help) scrutinized my face at length, then seemed to reach a conclusion and nodded decisively. I’d have thought she’d decided to ignore the event entirely were it not for the glimmer of mischief in her eyes.

The final two members of our bizarre, not-so-little group were presently standing across from one another, engaged in what at first appeared to be staring match over a rapidly expanding field of dark crimson orbs.

However, as in-tune with magic as I was, I could tell what Rias and Tosca were doing. My King was steadily firing more and more orbs of Destruction, and Tosca was pushing her magic to its very limits catching each and every one of them in a golden zone of stasis the instant they popped into existence.

However, it was obvious to see that Tosca’s stamina was flagging. It was honestly impressive that she was able to do this much after such a small amount of time training, especially against a magic as volatile as Destruction.

“O-okay, Rias,” Tosca said in Italian, “I’m at my limit.” She quickly stumbled out of the way of the orbs and let her stasis fields fade, all of Rias’ attacks abruptly regaining their momentum and slamming into a far-off boulder, annihilating it with extreme prejudice. 

Even as Tosca swayed drunkenly on her feet, Kiba appeared beside her in a blur, placing a steadying hand on her arm and leaving Donne holding a wielderless sword that rapidly faded into particles of magic.

Rias exhaled, then turned to me with a small smile that quickly turned concerned. “Is she alright?” my King asked sharply.

“...As well as she  _ can _ be, given the circumstances,” I replied soberly, then gave a shaky smile. “She’s all tuckered out from having a tickle war with Mari-chan and I.”

A distant expression crossed Rias’ face for a moment. “I remember when we used to have those; you’d always have to drag Kiba along ‘because it wasn’t proper behavior for a Knight’.” Rias said this last in a high-pitched, snooty voice, drawing a laugh from both Tosca and I. Meanwhile, Kiba covered his face with one hand, failing spectacularly to conceal the reddening of his cheeks.

Trying and failing to contain my grin, I walked over towards the nearby bleachers and lowered Valerie gently onto it. 

Quickly dipping into the Shadow Realm (I’m not apologizing) and then out of Donne’s shadow, I cleared my throat.

“You got any of them, uuuuhhh,  _ boneless _ pillows left?”

Donne gave me a slightly disappointed look, then pulled her coat to the side to reveal several rows of zip-topped pockets. I just about saw Xenovia abruptly side-stepping to make sure she was directly behind Donne before the blonde unzipped a specific pocket and held the coat well away from her body.

And that’s when I learned that she apparently put  _ every pillow she’d stuffed in the duffle _ right back into that pocket, which I discovered by means of ballistic cushioning.

My voice muffled by the veritable mountain of upholstery, I still managed to complain, “Doesn’t feel boneless to me. Deadass.”

“You fell for it twice,” Donne said lightly. “Dumbass.”

I gasped in mock offense, then stood up, my hands on my hips and an expression of false outrage on my face. This was rather ruined by the cushion balanced precariously on my head.

As much as I’d have liked to engage in plush warfare then and there, I refrained. I grabbed the pillow off of my head, gathered a couple more off of the ground, and stalked back towards Valerie with an over-exaggerated huff. I carefully rearranged the sleeping bea— _ my dear friend _ so that she’d be more comfortable. 

After that was done, I enlisted Mariko to sit with her, both so Valerie wouldn’t wake up alone and so my daughter would have something to occupy herself while I trained with my family.

“Oi! Xenovia!” I called in Italian, walking away from Valerie and Mariko. “Can I trouble you for a spar? I’d like to practice against a Holy Sword, and what better choice than Durandal?”

I ignored Rias’s sputters of consternation and concern as I waited for a reply.

Xenovia raised an eyebrow at me, considering. Then she looked over at Donne, who nodded, before looking back to me. “Very well then.”

I nodded my thanks, and took a basic unarmed stance a few meters away from her, my shadow already coiling up out of itself and writhing ominously. The other members of our little group cleared a large space around us.

Once she took a stance of her own and we exchanged bows, I slashed my hand through the air, volley after volley of arrows forged from blackest night racing towards her. I’d been sure to blunt the tips, of course. Simultaneously, I sent a paper-thin tendril of shadow snaking through the grass at ground-level. 

Before they’d crossed even half the distance between us, Xenovia was already amongst them.

Durandal was a solid wall of blue metal and trailing gold in the air before her, the grass and dirt that had erupted from the force of her lunge still falling as the luminescence of Roland’s blade ripped through my shadows. She might not have been  _ Kiba _ fast, but she was incredibly quick for someone working without the boosts of a Knight piece.

I’d just have to follow suit, then. I flooded my muscles with magic and the intent of  _ speed _ , the ground letting off a puff of dirt as I pushed off and darted around her swing with bare millimeters to spare. 

Okay, so ranged attacks were pretty much a bust unless they were undetectable or on par with Kokabiel’s. While I  _ had _ been studying the theory of the former, I didn’t have anything feasible ready at the moment. As for the latter,  _ that _ was a no-go for several reasons.

I ground my teeth as I barely managed to duck another swing, then had to leap skyward to avoid her backswing. As much as I prided myself on being a Bishop capable of melee combat, I was still far behind people like Xenovia or Kiba. People who focused on it almost solely, rather than diversifying like me. “A Jack of all trades is a master of none” and all that.

Of course, Xenovia clearly knew this as much as I did, and pressed the attack from the very start, forcing me to rely on my less-practiced skills.

If I hadn’t been so busy not getting decapitated, I’d have grinned. This was  _ exactly  _ why I’d asked Xenovia. I needed this kind of harsh push; I  _ relished  _ it.

Wreathing my left hand in shadow that formed the shape of a claw and forging a short cudgel of it in my right, I pushed even more  _ speed _ into my muscles and blurred forward, claw coming up from the bottom and club coming around from the side.

Durandal plunged down into the earth from above, passing through my claw on the way down; the cudgel, however, met Xenovia’s foot as she kicked out to the side.

I let my weapon warp and shift as her foot came into contact with it, going from sturdy and rigid to flexible and  _ alive _ . I wrapped the shadow around her ankle, connected it to my shadow with a thought, and with all the force of my magic, I  _ yanked _ skyward, attempting to knock her off her feet, or at least off her balance. 

Even as I did that I was moving backwards and upwards, wings flapping as I prepared a mandala between bloody, clasped hands. While I’d moved back, I’d used a small tendril of shadow to prick my palms so I’d have some blood for this next spell.

The yank on Xenovia’s ankle worked—in fact, it worked too well. She moved with it, turning what should have been an unbalancing strike into a perfectly natural backflip as Durandal passed almost negligently through the shadow in mid-air. She landed in a crouch for barely a moment before the earth beneath her feet gave way once more, Durandal held low and to her side as she tore across the distance between us.

As that inexorable juggernaut of a woman charged me, I poured more magic into the spell I was preparing. Not for power, but for  _ speed _ . Durandal was already arcing towards my neck as the mandala completed and I hurriedly raised it before me, a tendril of shadow snapping out of my collar to tear my shades off, revealing eyes wide with intensity.

_ “Darker Than Black!” _ I snapped, and the mandala bloomed. Countless strands of bleeding darkness, frozen in time by my eyes, cocooned my opponent. The iron-tinged scent of my blood filled the air around us. 

I’d refrained from using my Sacred Gear directly on Xenovia, because though that was in theory the most effective way to end a fight, it wouldn’t help me grow any. 

That said, I was half-certain that Durandal was simply  _ bullshit _ enough to counter my temporal stasis, so I let two sabres of blood snap out of my veins and edged them with hyper-thin shadow. I couldn’t do mono-molecular yet, but I was getting close. I kept one at my side and the other between us as I approached Xenovia, just  _ knowing  _ she’d pull some fuckery to get out of this.

There was a single moment where Xenovia was held still, visibly straining against the time-frozen bindings with her eyes darting around, before there was a flash in her eye that reminded me distinctly of Donne. With a twitch of her fingers that should _not_ have been capable of imparting the force it did, she threw Durandal _at her own_ _face_ and caught the hilt in her teeth. The brightness of the sword seared lines across my vision as the might of a legendary weapon tested my shadows’ bindings and found them lacking, freeing Xenovia from the tendrils that had been on her.

The tendrils that had surrounded her didn’t last much longer, the shadows themselves burned away by Durandal’s light in complete contravention of their temporal stasis.

_ ‘I  _ fucking _ knew it,’ _ I thought ruefully, raising my blades in a stance that Kiba had drilled into me over several years of sparring. I was still a far cry from him, of course; he was a prodigy and personally trained by Okita Souji besides. That said, I was determined to put up as good a fight as I could.

I darted forward, magic pumping  _ speed _ into me as I brought my Sanguine Spectral Sabers around in a whirl...

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

**Asia**

“...from someone who knows, the whole ‘break yourself down and build yourself up again’ thing only works if  _ you choose a means of breaking that won’t lay you out in an instant.” _

I finally took a breath, closing my eyes for a moment and counting backwards from ten as I took my green-glowing hands off Johan. “Seriously, try something a bit easier first...like challenging the reigning fencing or kendo champion of the world, maybe. Strada and I specifically trained her to be able to defeat magic users; she’s a terrible first step.”

Johan let out a groan. “Noted,” he replied in Italian, then turned to Xenovia. “That said, good spar, Xenovia. I look forward to a time when I can actually hold my own against you, in melee or otherwise.”

Xenovia snorted. “Not even you will live that long, Dhampir,” she replied with a smirk, Durandal resting its spine on her shoulder.

I reached up with irritating difficulty and slapped her upside the back of her head. “Play nice, Xenovia.”

She turned, giving me a frank look. “Sitting him on a fire won’t do him any good, Asia.”

The slap of my palm meeting my face was probably audible for a good quarter mile. “It’s ‘blowing smoke up his ass’, Xenovia.”

She frowned. “Well that just doesn’t make any sense at all.”

I threw up my hands, shaking my head as I turned back to Johan. “Seriously though, you need to take things a bit slower. I’ve been watching Xenovia for long enough to know that you’re better than most, but the blade hasn’t been your main area of study, and it probably never will be. Trying to match up to swordsmen like Xenovia or Kiba is a poor decision and even poorer training.”

Johan winced. “I hear you. I’ve always known that I was sacrificing specialization for versatility, but this just drives home the point further.” He sat up, rubbing the back of his neck. “All I can do is keep getting back up and working at it, eh?”

Xenovia and I gave approving nods at more or less precisely the same time. ““Exactly. Determination is the key to success.””

Johan snorted. “You two are  _ perfect  _ for one another, I swear.”

I felt myself go red around the ears, even as Xenovia’s arm snaked out to wrap around my shoulders and pulled me into her side. A quick glance up at her face only served to confirm the existence of the smug grin I’d known would be there.

“Well, determination is certainly part of it, but willpower without knowledge isn’t much use to anyone.”

“That’s a good poin…” Johan trailed off, his eyes widening as he realised that the speaker wasn’t one of  _ us _ .

Xenovia and I, a little more on the ball or maybe just more paranoid, had sprung apart in a twisting motion that had us facing the other way by the time the first few words were spoken.

Watching from the treeline above us like he’d been there forever stood a tall man in an open dark-gray suit jacket and slacks and a light blue button-up shirt with the top left open visible beneath. The outfit itself seemed more or less normal, if a bit expensive, but the goatee, violet eyes and distinctive golden fringe fading into black hair were anything  _ but _ normal.

“I’m known to make them from time to time,” the man agreed, hands in his pockets as his mouth twisted into a smirk that could well have been there when he was born for how natural it looked.

In fact, I wouldn’t have discounted that possibility.

“Yo, everyone,” greeted Azazel, Chiefest and Greatest of Calamities, Scapegoat of God and Governor-General of the Grigori. “Good to see you again, Issei-kun. It’s been a while.”

As the momentarily-frozen group who had been either working themselves or watching Xenovia and Johan abruptly whirled into action, scrambling to take up positions and prepare for battle, I heard Johan faintly comment “You know, I have to wonder if there’s something in the air here that attracts Fallen Angels.”

“Asia, is that really…?” Xenovia asked out of the corner of her mouth.

I nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, it is.”

Azazel’s gaze swept across everyone in the group at least once, even as Issei clued in everyone who  _ hadn’t _ known he was being contracted to play video games with Azazel some nights. Which, to be fair, I had no real reason for knowing either, outside the whole reincarnation thing.

“You’ve really put together quite a group here…” he mused. “Humans, Devils, Dhampirs, Youkai…” He tilted his head slightly to the side, his gaze intensifying. “...And  _ two _ Longinus, a holder of  _ twin _ Sacred Gears, and three wielders of Balance Breaker…” He shook his head. “With a group like this, I suppose it’s really no wonder Kokabiel finally met his match.”

There was a distinct tensing of the atmosphere as the name was spoken, but Azazel raised his hands out of his pockets, waving them toward us. Considering each of those hands probably had a death toll (and an explosive yield) in excess of any weapon deployed by humanity, it  _ really _ wasn’t a comforting gesture. “Oh, I’m not really here about that. Well, I’m certainly here to apologise for it, since you had to deal with something that should have been my problem to fix… but I’m not looking for revenge or anything.”

At this, Rias spoke up. Her voice was frigidly cordial, and her eyes flashed like polished chips of aquamarine. “Is that so? Then what, pray tell, is the Governor-General of the Grigori doing in  _ my  _ territory?  _ Again _ , at that!” She planted a hand on her hip. “I hope you’ll forgive the  _ presumption _ ,” she said dryly, “but I do not appreciate the leader of our ancient enemies traipsing into my home and toying with one of my precious Peerage!” She lifted her chin defiantly, waiting for a response.

“Oh, I didn’t come here to toy with anyone, little Gremory-san,” Azazel replied easily. “Even if I was here for something like that, together your group managed to kill Kokabiel.” He smiled, and my carefully-honed danger sense started playing the cello on my spine. “I’d have to take you seriously.”

A moment later, the danger passed, and his smile lost the eerie edge it had momentarily gained. “But I’m not. Honestly, I’m not even here for Issei-kun at all.”

Rias raised a crimson eyebrow, pretending that there wasn’t a fine sheen of sweat on her brow from Azazel’s little display. “Oh? Well then, what  _ are _ you here for?” Left unspoken but understood was the addendum of  _ ‘So you can  _ leave _ as soon as physically possible.’ _

“Well, partly I’m here to lend a hand getting your old school grounds back in time for the conference,” he said, ignoring how highly strung most of us were at this point. “But I’m also here for  _ them.” _

I didn’t need to look over my shoulder to know his hand was pointed right at Johan.

My brother stiffened, then very deliberately relaxed. “Me, Azazel-san? What can I do for you?”

“You’re the current holder of Forbidden Balor View,” he said, most certainly not asking. “The one who managed to cripple Kokabiel in your confrontation, despite the gap between you, by awakening your Balance Breaker.”

Johan nodded, one hand rising to rub absently his throat.

“Excellent!” he declared, grinning widely. “Show me!”

I blinked a few times, a little put off by the blunt and (though the thought would never leave my mind) honestly slightly childish command. From behind me, I heard Johan sigh. “I’ll give it a shot, but let me warn you: last time I only managed to activate it by drinking some of Lord Lucifer’s blood, so I have no clue if I’ll actually manage to activate it.”

“Though the blood might have empowered your existence to the degree required for Balance Breaker to forcefully trigger, thanks to your Vampire heritage, it will also have greatly advanced your progress towards attaining that point naturally,” Azazel replied, waving him off. “Think of it as having had the trail blazed for you already—it’s just a matter of crossing that distance without obstacle, now. You already have a solid grasp on your Sacred Gear, so you’ve certainly reached this level from such a potent boost.”

“I see. Well, like I said, I’ll give it a shot,” Johan replied, then shut his eyes. I could see his breathing evening out and slowing to a rate that would have a human unconscious. His hands fell limp to his sides, and for a brief moment, there was silence.

Then, a pillar of black and crimson suddenly engulfed him, erupting in a ring from around his feet and twisting around itself as it reached for the sky. The wind pouring off the sudden expulsion of energy was intense, but over its howling I could hear a voice from within the pillar; a voice which was Johan, but was also  _ not. _

“ _ Balance Breaker—Visions of the Old Blood: Abyssal Distortion of the Evil Eye.” _

The pillar made a sudden  _ twisting _ motion, as if some great massive hand had just grasped it and pulled sideways, then burst apart into scraps of black and red that dissipated into nothing. In the space where it had once been centred, Johan was revealed in that same changed form that I had glimpsed over the battlefield… but now that we weren’t fighting for our lives, I could actually get a good look at it.

Johan’s skin was usually pale, much more so than was the norm. Now, though, all colour seemed bleached from his features, leaving a white so stark it looked unnatural. His eyes, one a luminescent red that was at once similar to and different from his usual colour and the other a crystalline blue, stood out all the more for the contrast against that blank background.

His usual Gilgamesh rip-off fashion statement was gone; whether it was destroyed or stored elsewhere I wasn’t sure, I just knew there wasn’t a trace of it remaining. Instead, his shirt and jacket had been replaced by an ink-black garment that reminded me a bit of a kimono, largely concealed beneath a haori the colour of snow that wouldn’t have been out of place on a Gotei 13 Captain. The slacks he’d worn had switched place with hakama, the same black as the kimono-thing that was tucked into them, and I could see the ends of white socks and simple tabi protruding from beneath the bottom edge.

He...honestly looked a lot like a Bleach fan who’d created their own edgy OC with super-special eye powers that were  _ totally _ not the Sharingan, then dressed as them for a con.

_ ‘Figures, considering that’s not completely inaccurate.’ _

Johan threw his head back and let out an echoing, ethereal cackle, a noise quite appropriate coming from...well,  _ him _ . As he wound down from his excessive exultation, he remarked, voice tinged with glee, “I shouldn’t have doubted you, Azazel-san.”

“Well, I _ am _ called an expert on Sacred Gears for a reason,” he said cheerfully, waving something that looked an awful lot like a PKE meter up and down in front of Johan.

_ ‘...Wait, when did he get past us?!’ _

The realisation seemed to spread from Xenovia and I out to the rest of the group, that Azazel had moved from being right in front of us to being within a couple of feet of Johan without any of us noticing or reacting.  _ ‘Was he there a moment ago? Did he move during the transformation, or did he only move when it finished? Did we just not notice, or was he too fast to perceive?’ _

I felt a chill run down my spine as Azazel rattled off several rapid-fire questions at Johan, who seemed to be trying to answer them at the same speed and only meeting a certain amount of success.  _ ‘Of course. Seraphim. Right.’ _

“Oh, this  _ is _ interesting…” Azazel said, mostly to himself, as he examined whatever information he was getting from his device and scribbled in a notebook. “I’m going to have to bring more of my equipment along for the conference, I don’t have nearly enough on hand to get proper readings…” Closing his notebook, he nodded firmly. “That’ll do for now. Thank you, Vladi-san.”

Johan offered a respectful nod, then exhaled, his Balance Breaker flaking off of him and turning to shadowy ash, blown away by unseen wind.

“I should probably get going now, since I’m technically meant to be working at the moment,” he continued. “But before I go…”

He pointed at Kiba. “I’ve never seen anyone hold two Sacred Gears at once before; however, the similarities between Sword Birth and Blade Blacksmith are great enough that you should be able to intermix their effects, rather than having them cancel one another out.”

Then he turned to Tosca. “Bulwark Verðandi doesn’t have to completely eliminate the flow of time within its confines; if you learn to properly control it you’ll be able to decide what experiences time and what doesn’t.”

His finger was pointed at me, and I resisted the urge to dive out of its path like I would that of a gun. “Twilight Healing is known as the most powerful healing-type Sacred Gear, but it doesn’t just heal; past users of that Sacred Gear have used it to create protective barriers and blessings as well.”

The Digit of Doom was aimed at Issei. “The power of Boosted Gear can do much more than just enhance your own characteristics; its Gift ability can be applied to almost anything, so for example you could double the distance between you and your opponent or you could double the weight of gravity on them. If you start to learn Devil magic properly, you’ll be able to imagine those things well enough to Boost them.”

And finally, to Johan. “Your Balance Breaker is still new and untrained; you can enter and exit it at will, but you’ll find you lack fine control and you’ll tire very quickly. Start training with small-scale effects until you can do precisely what you intend to, and you’ll find it much easier to move on to big performances.”

Azazel nodded to himself even as I was taking in what he’d said and looking down at my own hands.  _ ‘...Protective barriers, huh?’ _

“I look forward to seeing just what all of you manage to accomplish in the future,” he said. “I’d better be going now.”

I blinked, and he was by the treeline, one foot paused in the act of stepping into the shadows of the canopy. “Oh… one last thing.” He looked back over his shoulder, directly to where Valerie was laying on the bleachers. “Do be careful with her, Vladi-san; the Sephiroth Graal is a burden that I wouldn’t wish on anyone.”

And with that, he disappeared like smoke on the wind.

I smothered the urge to groan as Xenovia turned to look, first at Valerie, and then at me. “...Asia.”

“...Yes, Xenovia?”

“Please be honest with me. Did you carry a Longinus user on your back across almost half the world with no more protection than a duffle bag and a small shop’s contingent of pillows?”

I remained silent.

“Asia.”

“If I don’t say anything then I’m not lying to you.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the expression on Rias’ face. It cycled rapidly between concern, excitement, stress, and perhaps half a dozen other emotions before settling on exhausted consternation. “This is my life now, isn’t it?” the Gremory heiress asked nobody in particular.

Johan walked over and gave her a comforting pat on the shoulder. 

…

The seemingly sympathetic gesture was rather ruined by the shit-eating grin on his face, however.

I chuckled weakly as Xenovia and Irina both did their level best to burn holes through my skull with their eyes alone. “Uh… I did it for friendship?”  _ ‘That’s the magic word, right?’ _

The glares intensified, and I could see Johan trying desperately not to laugh.

_ ‘Or not.’ _


End file.
